Music and Recording Reviews

Mozart: Piano Concertos Nos.19 & 23
Kristian Bezuidenhout, fortepiano; Freiburger Barockorchester
Harmonia Mundi HMM 902334 (CD, 24/96). 2024. Martin Sauer, prod.; Julian Schwenkner, eng.
Performance ****½
Sonics ****½

As an inveterate lover of period instruments with the timbral tang of authority, it's hard to imagine that any Mozart aficionado, even those who might initially turn to Khatia Buniatishvili's contemporaneous, modern-instrument recording of Mozart's Piano Concertos Nos.20 & 23 with the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields, will not develop a special fondness for this recording, in which Kristian Bezuidenhout performs on a copy of an 1805 fortepiano.

Note the striking clarity and harpsichord-like percussive attack of Bezuidenhout's fortepiano. It may not produce a modern instrument's more legato-like sustain and flow, let alone its wider shade of dynamics, but it creates a more intimate, clarified sound world. Freiburger Barockorchester's pungent woodwinds and strings also respond most convincingly to the fortepiano's statements, their unique colors providing more contrast than the academy's homogenized sound.

Bezuidenhout enables us to sense Mozart's headspace as he explores everything he—and the artists he hoped to inspire—could transmit through his music. The delight Mozart takes in the opening of Piano Concerto No.19 in F major, K.459 is palpable, and his joy in the oboes' response to the fortepiano in the second movement is infectious. Imagine how much he relished showcasing his keyboard virtuosity in the final movement.

Piano Concerto No.23 in A major, K.488, completed 27 months later, sounds a far more substantial note. Its gravity, which in Bezuidenhout's performance goes only deeper, is equally realized in the opening two movements. Where Buniatishvili plays the Adagio so slowly as to gild the lily, Bezuidenhout allows its innate beauty and sentiment to speak of its own accord.—Jason Victor Serinus

Dvořák: Legends; Slavonic Rhapsodies
Czech Philharmonic/Tomáš Netopil
Pentatone Music PTC5187221 (CD, 2024). Jiří Gemrot, prod.; Jan Lžičař, eng.
Performance *****
Sonics ****½

Tomáš Netopil has done collectors a service by serving up these less common Dvořák pieces, rather than yet another traversal of the Slavonic Dances, as Czech conductors are apt to do. Both these sets of pieces have had spotty recorded success, making this release especially welcome.

The 10 Legends, while brief—mostly two or three minutes each—offer diverse themes that strike contrasting emotional states: bright and then reflective, or gloomy and then chipper. The longer sixth Legend, just over five minutes, presents multiple, strongly varied sections. Netopil underlines Dvořák's textural contrasts—staccato woodwinds against solo horn or bowed strings, or legato winds over plucked strings—to good effect, and inflects the various folk-based themes, whether marching, brooding, or wilting, with the correct Slavic "accent." The lilting third Legend could be the conductor's dry run for those Slavonic Dances, and he handles the introverted moments with a lovely restraint.

The Slavonic Rhapsodies also suggest the Dances, but their larger scale—around 13 minutes each—offers scope for actual symphonic development. (It also encourages the composer's propensity for stacking up multiple endings, one after the other, like jetliners over JFK Airport; several false cadences unduly delay the finish of the rousing, infectious third piece.) The tuttis are festive in the Slavic way, while nostalgia pervades the lyric moments.

The orchestra is first-class. The Czech strings sound less lean and tapered than formerly, but Netopil turns their warmth to advantage, reinforcing important arrival points with cushiony accents, setting off the lovely, plaintive woodwinds. The brasses are nicely focused—no tremulous, watery horns—and the tuttis are incisive.

Save for those tuttis' occasional edge, the sound is vivid.—Stephen Francis Vasta

Evening Songs: Songs by Dvořák, Smetana, Fibich, and Suk
Adam Plachetka, tenor; David Švec, piano
Pentatone Music PTC5187219 (CD). 2024. Milan Puklicky, prod.; Jan Lžičař, eng.
Performance ***½
Sonics *****

This isn't quite what you'd expect, given the title and billing. At the start, Adam Plachetka's darkish timbre and laborious manner don't suggest an "evening song" at all; he's almost a Wagnerian baritone, not a lyric tenor. The singer does revert to a more caressing style in the following song, and a less forced legato, with a more nearly authentic tenor quality. Some effortful huffing remains, however, even amid the hearty oompahs of track nine: the cries of muůj bože in track six become unsteady.

The mostly unfamiliar Dvořák songs themselves are constructed with the composer's usual blend of cosmopolitanism and folklike directness. Opus 31—all the Dvořák sets, unhelpfully, are titled Vecerní pisné—ranges from elegiac and grim to jolly; Dvořák's characteristic major-minor cross-relations evoke an emotional ambivalence.

Plachetka's delivery is now varied and spoken, now too evenly stressed; here and there, the depth of his lower octave plays to advantage.

Smetana's five songs, while brief, cover a comparable range of feelings, with a nice cross-play between piano and voice in track 15 suggesting Schumann, and a good folk-like cheer in track 16. The more adventurous Fibich set, with its nature imagery and sunny disposition, feels more daytime than evening.

Suk's "Byla noc krásná" is a slightly angular lullaby. Plachetka sounds more fluent in all this material; some sustained notes even spin freely, though softer, higher ones continue to strain.

Save in the clangorous triplets in the last song of the Fibich set, Švec's adept, sometimes shimmering accompaniments are first-rate. So is the recorded sound.—Stephen Francis Vasta