Gramophone Magazine Editor's Choice

“Scholars are now sure that Bach did not plan his four orchestral suites as a set – unlike the six Brandenburg Concertos. It seems likely, then, that the stylistic diversity exhibited in the suites is inadvertent, not, as in the case of the Brandenburgs, an overt display of compositional virtuosity.
On recordings, however, the suites are usually presented as an entity, so the fact that each has its own identifiable personality actually has taken on interpretive significance.
On this Telarc disc, Martin Pearlman effectively delineates the unique character of each work. The C major Suite is essentially lyrical, its phrases unfolding in long, florid arcs; the B minor suite is more fidgety, particularly in the Overture, with its tense trills; and the two D major suites combine grandeur and gaiety. Yet Pearlman remains true to the specific nature of each dance form, as well – listen to the four bourées in succession (the only dance that appears in every suite), for example, and you will find a remarkable consistency of tempo and spirit.
Special attention has also been paid to details of instrumental balance, with admirably transparent results. Some might prefer a bit more thrust and bite from the trumpets in the D major works, where Pearlman prefers to blend the brass into the orchestral fabric, but the sound is still exhilaratingly brilliant.
The crystalline quality of Telarc's recording reveals a few slight imperfections in the strings' intonation; otherwise Boston Baroque's virtuosity and élan leaves little to be desired. Indeed, the Bostonians' interpretation is a strong contender in a crowded field.” Gramophone Classical Music Guide, 2010

“Anne Sofie von Otter is really exploiting the French repertory nowadays. After her Mélisande and Carmen, and Chaminade and Offenbach recitals, here she tackles Ravel's Shéhérazade with total success. From the first cry of 'Asie' in the opening song, von Otter beguiles using a hushed, yet expectant quality. Throughout her soft singing is exquisite. The balance between voice and orchestra has all the subtlety this extended prologue requires. At the sinister line, 'Je voudrais voir des assassins', she employs a harsh edge to the voice that's immediately echoed in the orchestral climax. As the poet describes the story-telling, Boulez brings the song to its end with a perfect diminuendo, leading into the mysterious 'Flute enchantée'. Here again von Otter's control of dynamics pays off with a gorgeous 'mysterieux baiser'.
The final song is also the most difficult. In its ambiguity, 'L'indifférent' mustn't be overstressed, and yet that ironic remark at the end, 'Ta démarche feminine et lasse' needs to be not so much regretful as a sigh of half-amused resignation.
Le Tombeau de Couperin, in its orchestral version, is an equally difficult challenge which Boulez and the Cleveland orchestra bring off with precision. With the other two orchestral arrangements of piano pieces, the Pavane and the Menuet Antique, again Boulez achieves such clarity that even these over-familiar works sound surprising and fresh.
The Debussy Danses, for harp and strings, serve as a sort of interlude, leading into the other three-song event, the Trois Ballades de FrançoisVillon. These are so often sung by a baritone; indeed, they were premiered by Jean Périer, the first Pelléas, so it's a slight jolt to hear them done by a soprano. Alison Hagley deals well enough with what Jane Bathori used to call the 'rough and quite choppy' vocal lines of the first song, 'Ballade de Villon à s'amye', but the fuller, darker tones of a baritone might be more appropriate in the central prayer. The account of the chattering wives of Paris brings the programme to a merry conclusion. The disc is a most enjoyable combination of orchestral music and song.
The sound throughout is exceptionally vivid, and Boulez, the orchestra and his soloists provide exemplary performances at almost every turn: heartily recommended.” Gramophone Classical Music Guide, 2010

“Aimard invests even the simplest scalepassage with real swagger and purpose” Guardian Nov 2004

“Charles Ives to complaining pianist: 'Is it the composer's fault that man has only ten fingers?' Listening to Pierre-Laurent Aimard play the Concord Sonata it isn't Ives's dry wit but the assertion that man has only ten fingers that you begin to question.
Nothing he wrote was 'reasonable' as in playable, singable. Everything was a stretch, a note or chord or counterpoint too far. Technically optimistic, spiritually aspirational. In a sense Aimard is almost too good, the realisation of everything Ives was striving for in this piece. You can almost hear Ives thinking: 'OK, if that's possible, let's go somewhere else…' Actually, the Concord Sonata goes wherever you want it to go. Its starting point is American literature but its substance is in ideas. Ives the transcendentalist: beyond the American dream.
An amazing stream of consciousness. Concord is a town in Massachusetts, it's where American Independence was bloodily born; but it's also a word for harmony, and for Ives there's harmony in extreme diversity. The big moments in the sonata are all born out of flux. Ideas and notes boil over in the second movement, 'Hawthorne', but at its heart is the basic conflict between the earthly body and its free spirit. The body resists, the spirit meditates. There are moments here where you'd swear two pianists were involved.
You'd also swear that the sorrowful song so fleetingly alluded to by solo viola (Tabea Zimmerman) in the first movement or the remnant of solo flute (Emmanuel Pahud) in the last are figments of your imagination.
Ives's imagination – his rampant theatricality – should have made for great operas. Instead he wrote songs: capsule dramas laid out not in scenes or acts but moments in time. Susan Graham inhabits 17 such moments – nostalgic ('Songs my mother taught me'), visionary ('A sound of distant horn'), cryptic ('Soliloquy'), brutal ('1, 2, 3'), expectant ('Thoreau') – and the feminine and masculine qualities of her voice, to say nothing of her musical sensibility, easily encompass the 'expectancy and ecstasy' promised by the song 'Memories' – which appropriately enough recalls her (and others like her) as a little girl 'sitting in the opera house'. Aimard is again a one-man band. Almost literally so in 'The Circus Band'. When Graham shouts 'hear the trombones', you really do.” Gramophone Classical Music Guide, 2010

“It's a conceptual collage fraught with intellectual and technical difficulties...which makes Pierre-Laurent Aimard a near-perfect match, a pianist who revels in Ives's ideas and who's equal to the almost insane physical demands of the 'Concord' Sonata...and what a result: intelligent programming, breathtaking performances, and a crystal clear recording.” Andrew McGregor, bbc.co.uk, 24th June 2004

“this release represents a remarkable discovery in 20th-century British music: excellent recording, too.” Gramophone Magazine

“The opulent recording allows plenty of detail to be heard within an ambient acoustic, especially on the excellent SACD mastering.” Editor’s Choice: Gramophone