Music Media Monthly

Simon Carrington at the Three Choirs Festival. Choral Conducting Masterclass. The Masterclass Media Foundation (MMF 2-035), 2010. 133 minutes. $39.00.

This video shows Simon Carrington, a well-known choral conductor and clinician and co-founder of the Kings Singers, guiding four student conductors through choruses from Handel’s Messiah. Each student prepared a different chorus and led the professional chamber choir Musica Beata through a complete run of the movement. In the sessions, Carrington generally emphasizes lightness and balance, he is positive, and he asks the students to explain their ideas or what they heard and what they might to do change. The battles that Carrington picks are a little obscure and difficult to change in a 25-minute session—“bringing people in,” for instance, or encouraging the students to “do it differently.” With each conductor he appropriately emphasizes text—how it informed and affected Handel’s writing, how the singers interact with it technically and musically, and how it plays into the audience’s experience. The disc concludes with a complete run-through of the four students composing their assigned movements.

The disc kicks off with a short interview with Carrington in which he reflects on the masterclass and the changes that he was trying to elicit from the conductors. He also gives general advice on how to prepare for a choral rehearsal. The austerity of the main menu is a little jarring, with white, sans serif text on a black background asking us to either “play all” or “select chorus,” but the video itself is nicely shot. The camera angles are quite useful—a side shot that shows the profile of the conductor’s upper body (with just a few too-close-ups that lose focus on the student’s posture and gestures), and an overhead shot from the back. The audio is good enough to hear changes in the choir as they respond to changes in the student conductors, and you can hear every single word spoken by Carrington and the conductors. This should be a provocative disc for young conductors.

Remembering Frédéric: The Genius of Chopin. Directed by Pamela Howland. Stone’s Throw Films, 2012. 63 minutes. $25.00.

Adapted from a one-woman show of the same name, Remembering Frédéric is a one-hour documentary written, produced, and directed by Pamela Howland, an active pianist and adjunct assistant professor at Wake Forest University. Howland includes interviews with a wide range of specialists, from the Provost of Frédéric Chopin University to professors in both English and radiology to the owner of Botique B&B in Warsaw. Throughout the film, there are several special interviews with actress Rosemary Harris, who won the Emmy for her portrayal of George Sand in the 1970s Masterpiece Theatre series Notorious Woman. A special emphasis is placed on Chopin’s relationships—with Sand, the artist Eugène Delacroix, his father, and others—and how his illness affected those relationships. Ms. Howland also serves as narrator and as the performer of any of Chopin’s works we hear in the film. As they come up, she inserts several “teaching moments” in which she directly addresses the audience to cover the differences between his waltzes, mazurkas, etudes, and nocturnes. Howland is elegant in appearance, in her playing, and as a voice-over. The documentary is fast-paced as documentaries go, with succinct interviews, short musical clips, and lovely, often-rotating images of portraits, and of buildings and monuments in France and Poland. The piano music played in the background is almost constant and at times a little distracting from the spoken audio. While a broad range of audiences would enjoy this film, academically it is probably most appropriate for high school or early undergraduate students, especially those studying piano. This is a very personal film, an obvious labor of love, and a genuine tribute to “the Genius of Chopin.”

Hvorostovsky in Moscow. Philharmonia of Russia, conducted by Constantine Orbelian. Delos (DV 7006), 2012. 58 minutes. $19.99.

This short and affordable disc features Russian baritone Dimitri Hvorostovsky, one of four singers who received an Opera News Award just a couple weeks ago. In this 2008 performance he is joined by Verdi specialist Sondra Radvanovsky—a special occasion as part of Moscow’s “Hvorostovksy and Friends” concert series—for a scene each from Un Ballo in Maschera and Il Trovatore. The two are regular collaborators, both in fully-staged productions and “best-of” aria recitals such as this one, and their chemistry did not disappoint in this performance.

Some of the audio we hear on this disc is actually taken from Delos’s 2008 CD release Verdi Opera Scenes, but to the credit of California film editor Steve Scoville, it’s difficult to tell which arias those might be. And perhaps these are Russian concert traditions, but I was surprised when the performers were showered with lovely flowers after every single piece, and when each piece was announced over a loudspeaker prior to its performance. Overall, this is a well-played, beautifully-sung recital.

– Anne Shelley

Antonio Vivaldi. Orlando Furioso. Conducted by Jean-Christophe Spinosi. Naïve (DR2148), 2011. 190 minutes. $24.99.

Trouble is afoot on the island of Alcina. Its resident evil sorceress bewitches practically every character in Orlando Furioso, so naturally the cast is compelled to perform passionate, seven-minute songs, then immediately make buggy eyes at whoever is currently singing. For three hours. This world-premiere staged video recording of Orlando brings us many of the same singers who collaborated with conductor Spinosi on a 2005 recording of the opera. Marie-Nicole Lemieux—whom I could listen to all day—graces us with her unearthly beautiful instrument. Lemieux has seemingly endless intensity and stamina, perfect for her title character’s long and arduous descent into madness. Other callouts are due to countertenor Philippe Jaroussky with his full and colorful tone, and to Romina Basso as Medoro. The closest thing to a weak link in this production is baritone Christian Senn as Adolfo, who can’t quite meet Vivaldi’s demands for flexibility. The staging presents a Venice that is unrelentingly dark and shadowy, and the blocking is a little awkward at times, but every note from the Ensemble Matthaus seems to shimmer, always floating, cascading, and intensifying with perfect timing and poise. The DVD’s packaging—as visually striking as the production—includes a lovely and useful booklet with a synopsis, extensive program notes, biographies, and a note from the directors. Recommended.

Claudio Monteverdi. L’Incoronatione di Poppea. Directed by Ole Anders Tandberg; conducted by Alessandro De Marchi. Available on DVD and Blu-ray disc. EuroArts (2058928), 2010. 180 minutes. $24.99/$39.99.

If you’re a stuffy traditionalist seeking to challenge your rigid ways, this could be your cold turkey opportunity. In this live performance of Monteverdi’s final opera, controversial stage director Ole Anders Tandberg turns L’Incoronatione di Poppea on its ear. His interpretation of the libretto’s moral ambiguity puts a spotlight on the opera’s key takeaway—that greed triumphs over virtue—but the execution is so blatantly sexual that it distracts from the storyline rather than enhancing it. The only color we see is red, shown in flushed cheeks, on pouty lips, and through pints of human “blood.” When the characters are fully clothed (hint: not always), their attire is modern rather than the expected period dress of Imperial Rome. The production’s oddities are not limited to Tandberg’s vision, unfortunately. From the onset of the prologue, the Orchestra of the Norwegian National Opera sounds frazzled and rough. I was also generally disappointed with the quality of the singing; as Poppea, Birgitte Christensen’s breath intakes are so audible that they’re almost asthmatic. Monteverdi doesn’t leave much wiggle room for pitch accuracy, let alone for the amount these singers insist on wiggling. Further, I question the wisdom of shooting video in monochrome and then releasing the product on Blu-ray, and the many and lengthy close-up shots eliminate the physical context of the minimalist stage which—in case you were wondering—is a single, mammoth, metallic slope. There are just too many blemishes here on what should have been a visually striking and respectable production.

Ludwig Van Beethoven. Fidelio. Conducted by Artur Rother; directed by Gustav Rudolf Sellner. Arthaus (101597), 1963. 124 minutes. $29.99.

This historic and nicely restored 1963 performance from the Deutsche Oper Berlin is now available for the first time on DVD. Fidelio was featured at the company’s 1912 opening of the Deutsches Opernhaus, a structure that like many others did not survive the mid-1940s. This production commemorates both the 1962 reopening of the Deutsche Oper Berlin and the company’s 50^th anniversary, and it was prepared for television and broadcast shortly after the run of the anniversary performance. In this film we hear the Fidelio overture, while the often-included Leonore Overture No. 3 is omitted. The three headliners—Christa Ludwig as Leonore, Walter Berry as Don Pizarro, and James King as Florestan—are absolutely top shelf.

– Anne Shelley

Mahler: Symphony No. 5. London Philarmonic Orchestra, conducted by Klaus Tennstedt. ICA Classics (5041), 2011. 76 minutes. $29.99.

This footage of master conductor and passionate Mahler interpreter Klaus Tennstedt makes its first appearance here on DVD; it was originally broadcast by the BBC in 1991. The German-born Tennstedt served as the London Philharmonic’s music director from 1983 until 1987, when he resigned after collapsing during a rehearsal for a BBC Proms performance. In this 1988 video he is technically the orchestra’s conductor laureate. He survived ten years after this recording, but was plagued by major health problems until his death. Tennstedt was not adventurous in his programming; he pretty much stuck with mainstays like Beethoven, Mozart, and Bruckner, but the crown jewels of his discography are his recordings of all the Mahler symphonies with the LPO. To me, Tennstedt’s conducting is as genuine as it is unusual. He may not be widely praised for impeccable technique, but Tennstedt still has a lot to offer students of conducting: he’s so intense, he’s focused, and he obviously knows what’s going to happen before it does. While the trumpets did not have their best night on this recording, the horns will steal your heart. The sound quality is better than I’d expected. Recommended.

Schumann: Genoveva Overture, Symphony No. 2; Schubert: Symphony No. 5. Boston Symphony Oechestra, conducted by Charles Munch. ICA Classics (5052), 2011. 76 minutes. $24.99.

This DVD premiere is one of several releases from ICA Classics of Charles Munch directing the Boston Symphony Orchestra. Though he’s probably most respected for his expertise in French repertoire, Munch can also be credited with bringing the BSO to public television; the Boston station WGBH aired more than 150 live BSO concerts between 1955 and 1979, and the performances on this disc are some of the earlier recordings that still live in the station archives. The quality of the footage is passable; occasional visual blemishes flicker in and out around Munch’s and some of the players’ large arm movements. Recorded only a couple years earlier than the other two performances, the footage of Schumann’s second symphony is in noticeably rougher shape. The picture is dull and blurry, and the pitch wavers a lot; this is especially unfortunate because Munch and the BSO never recorded this symphony with RCA. But this imperfect recording serves you, me, and our students much better as it is than it would have by remaining in a vault.

BBC Symphony Orchestra: Beethoven Symphony No. 5; Covent Garden Orchestra: Strauss Don Juan, Wagner Der fliegende Holländer. Conducted by Sir Georg Solti. ICA Classics (5024), 2011. 96 minutes. $24.99.

The recordings on this disc show Georg Solti with different ensembles and at different stages in his career, from a few years into his tenure with the Covent Garden Orchestra to conducting the BBC Symphony Orchestra at seventy-three years old, having successfully directed the Chicago Symphony Orchestra for seventeen years at that point. Solti established himself through Wagner’s music, and in 1958 he was chosen by Decca Records to lead the Vienna Philharmonic in the first complete recording of Das Rheingold. This disc includes footage of Solti rehearsing Strauss‘s Don Juan and a related interview with Decca’s John Culshaw that is difficult to understand, as the audio is very soft in places. Perhaps displaying captions of the transcript would have helped. The video and audio quality of the rehearsal footage, however, are quite good—good enough to understand Solti’s meticulous demands for proper articulation and adherence to written dynamics.

– Anne Shelley

The Mikado. Conducted by Brian Castles-Onion; directed by Stuart Maunder. Opera Australia (56014), 2011. 146 minutes. $29.99.

Welcome to Titipu! Arguably the most celebrated of the Savoy Operas, The Mikado’s witty text and memorable tunes are done justice with this revival production of a 1980s staging by Christopher Renshaw. The brazenly colorful characters weave and leap around (and often jump in and out of) oversized oriental pottery. Actor and guest artist Mitchell Butel was drafted for this production to play Ko-Ko the Lord High Executioner, and he will have you under his spell before you can say Yum-Yum. In his customized enhancements to Ko-Ko’s Little List, he seamlessly inserts quips and jabs at current events in Australia and beyond. This show is a good time, and I guarantee you’ll experience a LOL or two.

The Rake’s Progress. Conducted by Vladimir Jurowski; directed by John Cox; set design by David Hockney. Opus Arte (1062D), 2010. 140 minutes. $29.99.

This is an absolutely enchanting and gorgeous revival production of The Rake’s Progress, which had its Glyndebourne premiere in 1975. Designer David Hockney based the set on an 18^th-century series of paintings by William Hogarth that, when viewed by Stravinsky, struck the composer with the idea for the show. Hockney re-imagines Hogarth’s paintings as modern cartoon characters, and his use of cross-hatching saturates the costumes and all the set and the stage. In this sixth revival of the collaboration between Hockney and director John Cox, the assembled cast is strong in their stage presence as well as their singing. Finn Topi Lehtipuu sings beautifully the unreasonably difficult lines of Tom Rakewell, and Miah Persson performs the role of Anne Trulove with tenacity and grace. Highly recommended.

Nina.  Conducted by Adam Fischer. Arthaus (100367), 2002. 120 minutes. $29.99.

Composer Giovanni Paisiello was Rossini’s senior, and though he enjoyed some popularity during his lifetime, his operas have been staged far less frequently since the mid-19^th century. The 1790 revision of Nina that we see on this disc is billed as an opera buffa in two acts, and it is at the very least an 18^th-century sentimental comedy with simple yet beautiful melodies. Recorded live at the Zurich Opera in 2002, this revival of Nina reflects a production by Cesare Lievi that was staged just a few years earlier. The beloved mezzo-soprano Cecilia Bartoli gives an effective and committed performance as a madwoman, with expertly-done fioritura and just a smidgen of over-acting. Jonas Kaufmann’s acting and singing are both splendid. The disc also includes a 45-minute bonus documentary that explores Paisiello as “A Forgotten Genius,” in which director Cesare Lievi, conductor Adam Fischer, and Neapolitan musicologist, composer, and director Roberto de Simone are all interviewed.

– Anne Shelley

A Concert for New York. Conducted by Alan Gilbert. Accentus Music (20241), 2011. 112 minutes. $24.99.

This memorial concert given by the New York Philharmonic and the New York Choral Artists marked the tenth anniversary of the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001. Organizers described the concert as a gift to the city, and had originally planned to use Central Park as the venue. Politics and logistics interfered, however, and the event was moved to the Philharmonic’s home, Avery Fisher Hall. Planning for the concert was so intense that then-executive director Zarin Mehta had decided to cancel the orchestra’s popular concerts in the parks over the summer. That move also saved the cash-strapped organization enough money to guarantee a continuation of the parks series into 2013.

This is a captivating and emotional performance of Mahler’s mammoth “Resurrection” Symphony, but not only for the invited first responders, survivors, and other dignitaries in the seats of Avery Fisher. A large screen and speakers set up on Lincoln Center Plaza broadcast the concert to a standing-room only crowd that filled the plaza and spilled onto adjacent walkways. The concert was also broadcast live on the radio. The 90-minute piece gives us the opportunity to watch director Alan Gilbert’s five o’clock shadow grow before our very eyes. Whether stately, furious, delicate, mysterious, or mad, Gilbert plays whatever character is required of him with confidence and grace. The ensembles, too, have lots of bite and lots of tenderness. The group manages to make the performance intensely personal, and by the end, I felt like a bonafide New Yorker. Recommended.

Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny. Conducted by Pablo Heras-Casado. Bel Air Classiques (BAC067), 2011. 138 minutes. $29.99.

This opera is one of several collaborations between Kurt Weill and German librettist Bertolt Brecht, and it never quite got the traction that their most highly-regarded work, Weill’s Threepenny Opera, has enjoyed around the globe. Weill based this political satire on greed, industrialization, and overindulgence in the late 1920s, and some of his points fit right in with today’s New Normal, Wall Street documentaries, and Occupy movements. The Teatro Real Madrid produced the show in English, and while the original translation is forty years old and is often performed, I found myself longing to hear Mahagonny in German. Catalan theater company La Fura dels Baus represents Mahagonny—a city where the only offense is to have no money—as a literal trash heap. Except for a couple of lengthy and haunting a cappella chorales, the orchestra plows through their discordant score almost mechanically, matching the vivid horror of the soulless actions and desolate surroundings on the stage. There are several other video recordings of Mahagonny available with more impressive casts, but the visual pull of this production is stunning, disturbing, and strong.

George London: Between Gods and Demons. A film by Marita Stocker. Arthaus Musik (101473), 2011. 155 minutes. $24.99.

American bass-baritone George London, a post-war giant of the stage, sang alongside Renata Tebaldi, Birgit Nilsson, and Maria Callas. He was the first non-Russian to sing Boris Godunov at the Bolshoi Theater, and the first American to sing the Dutchman in Bayreuth. In the video, testimonies to London’s innate talent and his work ethic are as numerous as comments about his strong vocal presence, musicianship, and his linguistic abilities. He also had his share of idiosyncrasies as a performer, as he insisted on doing his own makeup and finding the perfect wig when the one provided to him would just not do. Paralysis of the vocal cords ended London’s singing career tragically early, so in the second half of his career he focused on administration and teaching. “Every singer who has had an important career is duty-bound to pass on the artistry he has amassed,” London says in the video, in translation. The documentary shows a wealth of archival clips from productions of Otello, The Flying Dutchman, Faust, and Tosca, and there is extensive bonus footage of various opera scenes in costume, spirituals, musicals, lied, and a 1962 TV performance from the Festival of Performing Arts.

– Anne Shelley

Goya. Conducted by Emmanuel Villaume; directed by Kasper Bech Holten. Arthaus Musik (101576), 2004. 101 minutes. $29.99.

Gian Carlo Menotti was a composer open to new avenues for delivering performances; his Old Man and the Thief was one of the first operas written for the radio, and Amahl and the Night Visitors was the first opera composed with a television broadcast in mind. Menotti would have been 100 this year, and releasing the DVD world premiere recording of Goya seems like an appropriate way to celebrate.

One of his many operas, a genre to which Menotti contributed greatly in the 20^th century, Goya came about when Plácido Domingo prompted the composer to write an opera about the life of Spanish artist Francisco Goya, whom Domingo greatly admires. Musically, Goya is standard Menotti, with rich, memorable melodies and dense writing. At the 1986 premiere, Domingo performed the title role, as he does on this 2004 performance. The initial production at the Kennedy Center by the Washington Opera was lavish, with costs estimated around $1 million. The U.S. Secretary of State, some senators, and the Queen of Spain were in attendance.

Here, however, the video quality is disappointing, with heavily-tinted colors and questionable editing. Much kitschiness occurs during the Act I Intermezzo, as video clips that are over-edited with offensive brightness and sepia tones run in slow motion throughout the interlude. Domingo is a treat as always, but while Michelle Breedt as the Duchess is a good vocal complement for him, the mezzo is just a little too uptight and mechanical to be as believably coy and cunning as her character requires.

Un Ballo in Maschera. Conducted by Sir Georg Solti; directed by John Schlesinger. Arthaus Musik (107271), 1990. 145 minutes. $29.99.

Un ballo in maschera had a complicated evolution. Neapolitan and Roman censors were displeased with some political overtones in Verdi’s original version (known as Gustavo III) so many changes were made to character names and titles, geographic settings, and the title. Two years, one lawsuit, and one real-life assassination attempt of Napoleon III later, Un ballo in maschera received a successful premiere in Rome in 1859.

Herbert von Karajan—who had enjoyed great success with Verdi operas since taking over as the Salzburg Festival’s Artistic Director in 1957—was supposed to conduct the Festival’s 1989 production of Ballo. He and the English film director John Schlesinger decided to stage the opera as Verdi had originally intended, telling the story of the assassination of Swedish King Gustavus III instead of Count of Warwick Riccardo in colonial Boston. Karajan died soon after stage rehearsals began, however, and Sir George Solti stepped up to the plate. This 1990 footage was broadcast live on Austrian Television as a revival run with the same cast and conductor as in 1989. Plácido Domingo is stunning and well-supported by the rest of the cast.

– Anne Shelley

Medea in Corinto. Conducted by Ivor Bolton; directed by Hans Neuenfels. Arthaus Musik (101578), 2011. 199 minutes. $39.99.

Generically, the Medea myth deals with morality, paying special attention to both the emotionally haggard Medea as well as the Corinthian society that no longer wants her. But, like many stories, this one is open to interpretation; this column looked at contemporary composer Aribert Reimann’s account of Medea earlier this year; Samuel Barber wrote a Medea ballet, and Maria Callas played the title role in Cherubini’s popular Medée. In this 2010 production from the Bayerische Staatsoper, director Hans Neuenfels threads a ghastly theme of fear. A lot of people die, especially when King Creonte is on stage, and through senseless and nearly relentless bloodshed Neuenfels seems to convey his own belief that Corinth is corrupt, its king is evil, and its citizens live in perpetual fear. This predominantly bel canto opera is rarely performed and has never before been released on video. With its virtuosic orchestral writing and emphasis on ensemble writing, Medea in Corinto was one of most popular operas in Italy in the early 19^th century. Neuenfels—often controversial yet iconic for his boundary-pushing staging and direction—makes his debut at this house with this production.

Nadja Micheal, who is as intense and serious during the bonus interview as she is on stage, reveals strategies for how she prepares for shows, including her title role here. What are her secrets to success? On the day of a performance, Michael wakes in a hotel room that she booked to escape her two children, reads the newspaper, eats the biggest hamburger she can find, and about three hours before the performance, she orders a large ice cream. Fueled on dairy and red meat, she delivers a luscious, almost mezzo-like tone along with her riveting stage presence. Another notable performance is that of tenor Ramón Vargas, who proves he is up to the challenge of the emotionally taxing role of Giasone. This is a very moving production.

The Lady and the Fool; Pineapple Poll. Choreographed by John Cranko. ICA Classics (ICAD 5040), 2011. 89 minutes. $24.99.

The combination of a sentimental satire and a flighty frolic makes for a very balanced disc. These charming studio performances of Pineapple Poll and The Lady and the Fool show off John Cranko’s early choreography. Both ballets were created for the Sadler’s Wells Ballet, which would later become the Royal Ballet, and this release from ICA Classics is their premiere on DVD. (The BBC originally telecast both productions in 1959.) The Lady and the Fool is mostly made up of adaptations of music by Giuseppe Verdi; at once charming and callous, the ballet pokes big fun at bourgeois culture. Svetlana Beriosova—once the prima ballerina for Sadler’s Wells—brings her characteristic grace and mystery to the lead role. The mood shifts drastically as you hop on board the H.M.S. Hot Cross Bun in Pineapple Poll. Based on W.S. Gilbert’s The Bumboat Woman’s Story, Pineapple Poll was the first collaboration between Cranko and conductor Sir Charles Mackerras. The fact that Sir Sullivan’s music had fallen out of copyright in 1950 made it ripe for arrangement, and Mackerras took advantage of the opportunity. He has described the show as “a patchwork of tunes” from the Savoy Operas: Pirates, Mikado, Patience, Ruddigore, and Pinafore are only about half the operettas that Mackerras references. Highly recommended.

Europa Konzert from Lisbon. Pierre Boulez, conductor; Maria João Pires, piano. EuroArts (2020218), 2004. 120 minutes. $9.99.

Pierre Boulez leads the Berliner Philharmoniker in this 2003 performance. The annual Europa Konzert, which commemorates the 1882 founding of the orchestra, is held in a different city each year. Lisbon hosted the concert for this performance, opening up a breathtaking 16^th-century monastery built during the city’s maritime boom days. The building even has UNESCO’s stamp of approval, having been named a World Heritage Site in 1987. The combination of artists for this program is natural, as Pires has focused on Mozart throughout her career and Boulez is well regarded for his Bartók interpretations in concert and on disc.

The concert kicks off with the spritely orchestral version of Ravel’s Le Tombeau de Couperin, which lacks a couple movements from the original piano suite. Each movement is dedicated to a friend of Ravel’s who did not survive World War I. The double reed players really step up to the plate for their spotlights, and the frequent profile shots of the principal oboist reveal some bonus sideburn awesomeness. Pires’s fingers dance through the Mozart concerto in a spectacular show. And whether Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra demands a low brass smear or asks the ensemble to wail a tender lament, Boulez soldiers on, ever professional, stoic, and jowly. Debussy’s Fêtes is presented as a delightful encore. The videography is sharp and colorful, and reveals many valuable physical perspectives of the space, though the frequency with which frames shift is a little spastic for me. I think you’ll enjoy this disc.

– Anne Shelley

UNIKO. Directed and edited by Chris Kurt Weisz; produced by Bernhard Fleischer. C Major (707108), 2011. 82 minutes. $24.99.

If Finnish folk artist Kimmo Pohjonen wanted to avoid a career as an accordionist, the guy honestly never had a chance. Pohjonen received his first button accordion from his father, who was an accomplished player himself and taught his son how to play. Pohjonen also spent a good chunk of his upbringing jamming with his village’s accordion club. Pohjonen’s works—with their multidimensional presentations of sound, light, and projected images—are probably better described as projects than as opuses. While Pohjonen’s tours often feature just him, his accordion, and his admirable mohawk, many of his projects involve other musicians and his roster of collaborators is long and varied. Here we see Pohjonen, percussionist/co-composer Samuli Kosminen, and the ever-adventuresome Kronos Quartet perform the world premiere of UNIKO at the 2004 Helsinki Festival. (An audio recording of this performance was released earlier this year through Ondine [ODE11852]).

Whatever genre boundaries you might want to place on this piece, the music is going to challenge your decision. Commissioned by the Kronos Quartet, UNIKO is a suite for accordion, voice, string quartet, and sampler that includes seven MIDI-tastic movements. The term “uniko” is related to dreaming, a theme that fits this piece well from beginning to end. A serene opening that evokes a sense of a seascape evolves through Balkan-sounding folk melodies, minimalist repetition, frantic rhythms, and Pohjonen’s impressive throat singing. The combination of the Quartet’s acoustic accompaniment and the composers’ electric instrumentation is so seamless that it sounds like a natural union rather than the dichotomy I had anticipated. This is a really engaging and emotional piece that challenges cultural and musical conventions. Highly recommended.

Paganini’s Daemon: A Most Enduring Legend. A film by Christopher Nupen. Allegro Films (A12CND), 2011. 79 minutes. $29.99.

Christopher Nupen—a veteran music television programmer and producer—began cultivating his reputation in the 1960s with the BBC and his own company, Allegro Films. In this DVD, Nupen tackles the story of the sordid and polarizing virtuoso Niccolo Paganini, the Italian violinist and composer known for his skilled performances. The devil touched many parts of Paganini’s life, as the masterful artist suffered from persistent illness, along with a gambling problem and a socially unhealthy appreciation of women. Paganini was an expert self-promoter as he began to perform outside Italy. He became unimaginably wealthy for a performer, at times charging twice the normal ticket prices for shows in London and Paris and regularly selling out.

Cameraman David Findlay has shot almost all of Nupen’s films, and the flow of the edited video and constant transitions of still images help move the story along. Dozens of sketches, silhouettes, and oil paintings—provided by the Paganini Institute in Genoa—are shown throughout the film. The illustrations more often place the angular Paganini in skewed and awkward positions than they depict him as an erect and triumphant stage performer. The uncomfortable images are an astounding contrast to the consonant and virtuosic compositions of Paganini that are played throughout the film by Latvian violinist Gidon Kremer. In the film, most accounts of Paganini’s musical prowess and odd behavior are drawn from his correspondence and reviews from critics. The video quotes luminaries like Heine, Thomas Moore, and Goethe, who had the chance to attend Paganini’s performances and to marvel at his brilliance. Praise is heard from Schumann, Schubert, and Liszt. But there are no live interviews with scholars, so we are subjected mostly to Nupen’s artistic filter, which provides an entertaining documentary that is aurally and visually stimulating.

– Anne Shelley

Manfred. Directed by Johannes Deutsch; conducted by Andrey Boreyko; featuring the Düsseldorf Symphony. Arthaus (101575), 2010. 89 minutes. $24.99.

Manfred is a dramatic poem in three parts, originally written by your favorite eccentric and mine: Lord Byron, who was kind of a big deal in early-nineteenth-century Germany. Robert Schumann first came into contact with Byron’s poem after his father published the first German editions of Byron’s works. Though he first read Manfred during his brief, silly stint as a law student, it wasn’t until 1848–well after things had begun to go south in the mental stability department–that Schumann completed the overture. The premiere performance of Manfred was conducted by Franz Liszt in 1852. Though the overture is often performed, Manfred is rarely offered in its entirety. Ten characters in total take us through a dialogue between Manfred–a powerful yet guilt-ridden Count–and a hunter, an Abbot, and seven spirits who refuse to put the nobleman out of his misery. This live production is simultaneously a visual trip and an aural feast. Director Johannes Deutsch created the performance’s visual components based on the open, domed structure of the hall, which was originally a planetarium. Projections of mountains and extreme facial close-ups are superimposed upon one another on a screen suspended above the orchestra, from whom I wouldn’t have minded a little more overall crispness and finesse, though the group skillfully and empathetically matches Manfred’s spastic emotional transitions. By fusing the minds of a disturbed composer, a passionate poet, and a creative director, this production creates a very unique experience that I do recommend you try for yourself.

Leonard Bernstein Conducts Shostakovich. Leonard Bernstein with the London Symphony Orchestra. EuroArts (3085318), 1967 [2011]. 54 minutes. $19.99.

At the same time that this grainy, rustic footage was shot of Bernstein guiding the LSO through Shostakovich’s Stalin-pleasing masterwork, Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was being crafted just down the road. Plucked from the BBC archives, this disc was released as part of the classic archive series featuring EMI, Medici Arts, and EuroArts recordings. The audio quality surpasses that of the video for sure, but there are some great extended shots of Bernstein and the footage of the players is edited pretty seamlessly. There is brief bonus footage of Bernstein rehearsing the LSO on the Shostakovich. The rehearsal footage is partially dubbed over with comments by Bernstein. If you’re not already, you’ll want to be aware of another DVD released about five years ago in which Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic perform Shostakovich 5 in Japan in 1979. Bernstein’s two audio recordings of this work with the New York Phil sandwich this LSO concert by about ten years on either side. There is fantastic energy on this disc–the finale is such a fast ride that I’m still adjusting my hair!

Arrau and Brahms: The Two Romantics. Claudio Arrau. EuroArts (2058658), 1988 [2011]. 110 minutes. $28.98.

Chilean pianist Claudio Arrau was born in 1903, which means this 1988 recording finds him well past the autumn of his life. Entirely on the dime of the Chilean government, he moved to Germany at the age of nine to study with a student of Liszt, a composer whose music Arrau performed to positive reception throughout his career. Arrau’s teacher was as much Brahms-averse as he was pro-Liszt, so it was not until after his mentor’s death that Arrau began programming Brahms’s works. In this reissue of a 1988 release, we are treated to a seasoned Arrau’s interpretation of two massive romantic pieces. Recorded live at Teatro Municipal, Santiago, Chile in May 1984, this footage documents Arrau’s first visit to Chile after a seventeen-year hiatus. (This video was produced and directed by Peter Rosen, who has produced and directed a lot of videos about important people. Since he’s not here to name-drop, I’ll do it for him: Bernstein, Midori, Sills, and Sondheim are just a few of his documentary subjects.) Martin Bookspan’s sportscaster-like commentary supplements the video’s introduction and closing, along with some added-value segments that cover topics from Arrau’s precociousness as a child to that whole Brahms-and-Clara thing. The video editing is marvelous, with creative and varied shots and smooth, flowing transitions between them. Arrau plays as romantically as one could hope. The concerto performance is followed by footage of the ecstatic, hanky-waving audience’s twelve-minute standing ovation, as well as an impromptu backstage interview with Arrau and conductor Juan Pablo Izquierdo. A very emotional, historic performance.

– Anne Shelley

Billy Budd. Conducted by Mark Elder; directed by Michael Grandage. Opus Arte (1051D), 2011. 200 minutes.

Originally an unfinished, fact-based Herman Melville novella, Billy Budd tells the story of a young sailor who was hanged based on a false accusation of mutiny. Benjamin Britten‘s opera takes place aboard a Royal Navy ship during the Napoleonic Wars. It’s so beautiful, yet so ugly, and unarguably disturbing. This 2010 staging of Billy Budd was the first-ever at Glyndebourne. The rustic, convincing set boasts a deck area three stories high, and the shadows that creep about the ship’s innards support the officers’ scheming and paranoid conversations happening below deck. Hearing only male voices for three hours over two acts gives the show a texture that’s rough, dark, and reflects the incivility of the plot. The role of Master-at-Arms John Claggart is entirely owned by Canadian bass Philip Ens as an intense, 100% bad guy, and Jacques Imbrailo sings Billy Budd with such innocence and virtue that your heart aches all the more for the wronged title character. Camera shots are strategically placed and craftily edited such that the viewer gets a very cinematic experience. This production is outstanding. Go get your own copy, because you sure can’t have mine.

Joaquín Achúcarro. Conducted by Simon Rattle. EuroArts (2058808), 2011. 102 minutes.

Along with a front row seat at an intimate and expertly-played recital, this disc treats us to a really delicious combination of artists. With Sir Simon Rattle at the helm, the Berlin Philharmonic joins Spanish pianist Joaquín Achúcarro on one of this disc’s performances: a heartfelt, sensitive playing of Manuel de Falla’s Nights in the Garden of Spain in Berlin. This concert is followed by a public “Falla and Friends” recital of Spanish-inspired piano music held at Madrid’s Teatro Real. Since 1959, Achúcarro has performed in over sixty countries with 200 orchestras and 350 conductors. Achúcarro’s playing is so technically pure, yet it reflects his sincere and engaged physical presence; he is visibly moved at the end of the Berlin concert. The 78-year-old gentleman has an unassuming way about him that draws the viewer’s focus away from him and into whatever he is playing. The performances on this disc are lovely and not to be missed.

Pique Dame: The Queen of Spades. Conducted by Michael Boder; directed by Gilbert Deflo. Opus Arte (1050D), 2011. 180 minutes.

Written in Florence in forty-four days, Pique Dame brings us talent and influence beyond that of Tchaikovsky, for his brother Modest adapted the libretto from a Pushkin short story. The playfully mysterious theme that kicks off the overture sets us up for one of Tchaikovsky’s most popular operas, performed here by a distinctly non-Russian cast. Barcelona’s magnificent Liceu hosted this production of Pique Dame on June 21, 2010. Visually, the show is stunning; the grandiose sets and the convincing period dress are shown off well by frequent wide camera shots. On the DVD version, I noticed that the audio is dull and tinny and that the orchestra occasionally overpowers the enormous and colorfully-garbed company; perhaps Blu-ray would be a better choice here. American Emily Magee performs Lisa’s angsty aria “Utzh polnoch blizitsya” with an effective heaviness. As Hermann, Misha Didyk sings expressively and is in marvelous voice but makes me ever so thankful for subtitles (for his first love-infused aria, he sings that all he wants to do is embrace his lover, but to look at him you’d think he was orating about a bad experience with harsh toilet paper). Act III alone is worth getting the entire disc, as Hermann’s gambling addiction and his obsessive troubles with the Countess culminate in ghost sightings and madness. In one of his final arias, Hermann assures us: life is nothing but a game, and only death is real.

– Anne Shelley