Norwegian composer-conductor-music-critique Hjalmar Borgstrøm (1864-1925; aka Hjalmar Jensen) was born in what's now known as Oslo. His Dad was a civil servant, and both parents were ardent amateur musicians.

Consequently, he showed an early interest in music and became a talented violinist by age fifteen, Hjalmar then studied composition as well as music theory in his hometown with fellow countryman, famed composer Johan Svendsen (1840-1911). Incidentally, around this time he changed his last name from "Jensen" to "Borgstrøm". This was so he wouldn't be confused with German composer Adolf Jensen (1837-1879), who wrote many art songs that were popular back then.

Subsequently, Borgstrøm spent two years (1887-89) furthering his musical education at what's now the University of Music and Theatre Leipzig, some 100 miles south-southwest of Berlin. However, he'd live in Oslo (see above) during 1889-90 and work as a music critic. But for the next thirteen years he got involved with concert activities taking place in Leipzig, Berlin, Paris and London. Then 1903 saw him return to Oslo, where the next ten years were his most prolific. Hjalmar was also a highly regarded critic right up until his death at age 61 (1925), and would leave a significant body of works across all genres.

This CPO release features two of his symphonic poems, the first being "Tanken (Thought)", Op. 26 (1917), which is a five-part musical cosmogony. In concert, it begins with a spoken, poetic prologue, which is not recited here, but printed in the album booklet.

The opening "Cosmic space engenders the idea" [T-1] is marked "Allegro moderato (Moderately fast)" and starts with delicate, twinkling passages [00:02]. These are followed by a lovely melodic thought [01:56], which becomes increasingly agitated, but then wanes [03:31], thereby ending the first part tranquilly.

However, the "Non troppo allegro (Not too fast)" second "Man and woman at the tree of knowledge" [T-2] has a piercing preface [00:01] succeeded by a searching segment with a sad cello [00:31-01:18]. Then somewhat ethereal passages [01:43, 02:49] prevail. These conjure up a tension-building pause [04:10], and respectively antsy [04:13], troubled [05:27], amorous [06:07] as well as bellicose moments [07:20]. Then memories of past thoughts [08:24, 10:01] end this part resignedly.

An "Andante (Slow)" third is tagged "Difficult times of distress. The idea grants those laden with grief the consolation of idealism" [T-3]. Accordingly, it begins with a lachrymose threnody [00:01] that has a captivating, dramatic, fugal episode [03:25-05:30]. This ebbs into a hope-filled adjunct [06:24], which brings things to an exultant, somewhat beatific conclusion.

But, the foregoing turns rather capricious in the "Presto (Very fast)" fourth, where "The demon of desire is transformed into the caricature of the idea in order to lead humankind astray" [T-4]. This has a skittish introduction [00:00] hinting at a waltz-like number that soon appears [00:38]. Then additional testy moments [01:03] give way to a lovely, pining theme [01:18].

This is material for subsequent catchy passages [01:55] with a remembrance of that waltz tune [02:07]. Then these wane into a wistful episode [03:20], which become quite commanding f05:44]. Then it ebbs into remembrances of previous thoughts [06:42]. Here that waltz reappears [07:19, 08:51], after which more of those skittish tidbits [09:41] end this part in merry fashion.

The "Allegro molto (Very fast)" fifth one is captioned "The idea toils under the yoke of materialism. The globe bursts. The idea, in its original form, returns to cosmic space" [T-5]. It has a flighty preface [00:01] followed by a severe theme [00:04] that's somewhat reminiscent of moments in the second part (see above).

This is succeeded by several variational treatments that range from forceful [00:44] to melodic [01:05], assertive [01:39, 01:53], rousing [02:06, 02:26, 02:46], lyrical [02:59], and obstreperous [03:26] with what sounds like an intermittent air raid siren [03:31-04:26]. Then the latter wanes into scintillescent passages [04:52] that end the work in much the same spirit as it began.

Subsequently, we get Hjalmar's symphonic poem "Jesus i Gethsemane (Jesus in Gethsemane)", Op. 14 (1904). It's in four attacca segments, which are presented on consecutive tracks. Moreover, the opening "Andante sostenuto (Slow and sustained)" one [T-6] portrays Jesus with his disciples entering the Garden of Gethsemane, and it starts with a motif representing his fear of what's to come [00:01]. Then a devout idea [00:20] signifies his moving away from them and praying. After that, the foregoing thoughts invoke several pious episodes [02:08, 03:01, 05:55, 08:14, 09:13].

However, the last of these is succeeded by an "Adagio (Slow)", heavenly segment [T-7, 00:00], where an Angel of the Lord appears to Jesus, and gives him spiritual strength for the difficult days ahead. But the music suddenly turns "Allegro (Fast)" and martial, thereby limning the entrance of his disciple, Judas Iscariot, with some local authorities [T-8, 00:00]. This also seemingly depicts Judas betraying Jesus by identifying him with a kiss, as well as his subsequent seizure by those authorities.

Then we get a last "Andante sostenuto (Slow and sustained)" segment [T-9]. It has an initial, profound, rising thought, which symbolizes "Jesus's strength of soul" [00:00]. Also, there's a striking, triplet figure [00:17] that will persist throughout this final segment. And subsequently, another idea representing "his compassion for humankind" appears [02:23]. These power moving passages that are respectively ominous [03:05] as well as benevolent [03:34], 04:17]. Then a hallowed episode [05:09] with a blessed coda [06:06] ends the work and this release presumably somewhere in heaven.

Both selections presented here are performed by Norway's Trondheim Symphony Orchestra (TrondSO), which is based in that city, some 300 miles north of Oslo. Under Norwegian conductor Eivind Aadland (b. 1956), who was this orchestra's Chief Conductor and Artistic Leader when these recordings were made, they deliver favorable accounts of both works, which should appeal to those liking early 20th century symphonic music.

The recordings took place 17-21 August 2009 in Trondheim's Olavshallen. They project consistently generous sonic images of the TrondSO in a venerable venue. The instrumental timbre is characterized by acceptable highs, a good midrange and clean bass. Most listeners will find this music, as well as the overall sound, generally acceptable.

-- Bob McQuiston, Classical Lost and Found (CLOFO.com, P250430)

This recent Toccata release gives us a second volume devoted to Swiss composer Richard Flury's (1896-1967) chamber music. Last summer we told you about their first one that featured a couple of his seven numbered string quartets (see 30 June 2024). Now here are two more of these late-romantic works, both of which are in four movements.

The opening String Quartet No. 2 in E minor/major (1929) has an "Allegro (Fast)" first movement [T-1] that may remind you of Austrian composer Anton Bruckner's (1824-1896) music. It has a flowing, initial theme [00:02] that's explored, and followed by a waltzlike one [02:04], which is examined. Then these ideas undergo a couple of spacious treatments that range from amorous [03:42] to mercurial [05:32, 06:36, 07:42] and pensive [08:22]. However, a confident one [10:26] ends the movement tranquilly.

It's succeeded by an "Andante sostenuto (Slow and sustained)" second [T-2], having a melancholy opening idea [00:01]. This adjoins a mournful episode [01:07] that grows increasingly intense, but wanes into a more hopeful one [03:42]. Then the latter becomes quite spirited [04:56], and subsequent memories of that earlier episode [06:27] bring the movement to a peaceful conclusion.

The mood turns cheerful in the third "Presto (Very fast)" Scherzo [T-3]. Here flighty outer passages [00:00, 03:48] with a comely motif [00:22, 04:10] surround a wistful trio [02:27-03:47], and end things full circle.

Then there's an "Allegro (Fast)" finale [T-4] with a sprightly introduction [00:01] and stately theme [01:12]. The latter is examined, after which the scherzo's motif surfaces [01:12]. It's the subject of a delightful fugato [02:21], which has a charming segment [03:45-04:38] based on ideas from the first movement. All this brings the work to a dramatic conclusion.

Like its immediate predecessor, the String Quartet No. 3 in C major (1938) has an "Allegro (Fast)" first movement [T-5]. This is a passacaglia with a short ostinato heard at the outset [00:01]. It foreshadows a captivating theme [00:04, 07:40], which underlies several segments of differing temperament. The most pronounced are aspiring [01:54], insistent [03:27], fickle [06:14] and shimmering [10:15]. Then a darting number [10:49] ends the movement briskly.

The "Andante (Slow)" second [T-6] opens with a gentle preface [00:00], followed by a lovely theme [00:51] that's a sibling of the one above. Then the latter parents an enchanting serenade with a frisky segment [04:16-05:14], which precludes it from becoming overly sentimental.

An "Allegro molto (Very fast)" Scherzo is next [T-7]. Here agile outer passages [00:00, 03:50] bracket an imploring trio [02:06-03:49], thereby ending things in the same spirit as they began. And incidentally, some listeners may find this movement has moments reminiscent of Antonín Dvořák's (1841-1904) Piano Trio No. 4 in E minor "Dumky", Op. 90, which was written back in 1891.

After that, Flury gives us a "Presto (Very fast)" finale [T-8]. It's basically an A-B-A-structured utterance, whose opening "A" has a busy, ostinato ditty [00:01]. Then the latter launches a contrapuntally spiced episode with a serene, passing thought [01:33-02:17]. And subsequently, all of the foregoing gives way to a pining "B" [03:33-07:02]. But "A" returns [07:04] sans that peaceful introspection, and brings the work as well as this CD to a cocky conclusion.

As with that first volume (see 30 June 2024), the Swiss-based Colla Parte Quartet (CPQ) is featured here. More specifically, first-violinist Georg Jacobi, second-violinist Sussana Holliger, violist Friedemann Jähnig and cellist Eva Simmen deliver superbly played, gripping accounts of both quartets. These will leave listeners hoping that this talented chamber group will eventually give us Richard's last three quartets (Nos. 5, 6 & 7), and maybe even his early unnumbered one (1918-19).

The recordings took place 15-16 April 2021 in the Zürich based SRF Radio Studio [T-1 thru 4], and 13-14 December 2022 at the Reformed Church [T-5 thru 8], which is located in Oberbalm, some 70 air miles southwest of there. Despite the different dates and venues, they project consistently realistic sonic images in pleasant surroundings with the instruments placed from left to right in order of increasing size. The string tone is about as good as it gets on conventional discs.

-- Bob McQuiston, Classical Lost and Found (CLOFO.com, Y250429)

French composer Augusta Holmès (1847-1903) makes her CLOFO debut with this recent CPO disc. Her father was a wealthy Irish officer, who during 1820 settled in Paris, where she was born. Augusta spent her early years in Versailles, which is a wealthy suburb of that great city.

As a youngster she displayed a talent for music, poetry and painting. However, her mother disapproved of her interest in music. What's more Augusta was an accomplished pianist, but was not allowed to study at the Conservatoire de Paris, because she was of English-speaking parents, who didn't have French citizenship.

However, she then took private lessons, one of her instructors being the organist at Versailles Cathedral. And not long after that, Augusta showed some of her early compositions to Franz Liszt (1811-1886). Consequently, during the 1870s, she studied with César Franck (1822-1890), who was one of her most important teachers.

Holmès would then pursue a career in music, thereby becoming one of the first modern female composers in what was then a male-dominated field of endeavor. Incidentally, back in 1868 some of her works were published under the male pseudonym "Hermann Zenta".

Be that as it may, the great French composer Camille Saint-Saëns (1835-1921) extolled her music (see the album booklet). Moreover, this gifted lady would spend her life in Paris, and leave a significant oeuvre across all genres. We're treated to three of her symphonic poems as well as two other Holmès's orchestral works on this CD.

First there's "Roland Furieux" (1875-76), which is a three-movement, programmatic symphony dating from 1875-76. Its underlying story is based on Italian Renaissance poet, Ludovico Ariosto's (1474-1533) romance epic called "Orlando Furioso (Roland Furieux)" of 1516. This is about a paladin named Roland, his pagan inamorata called Princess Angelica, and her love for a Saracen infantryman known as Medoro.

It gets off to an "Allegro (Fast)", restless start [T-1] with a chivalrous, galloping theme [00:02] as Roland rides about looking for his unfaithful ladylove Angelica. This wanes into amorous passages [03:05] reflecting his unrequited love for her. These become increasingly passionate, and are followed by reminders of the opening measures that bring the movement to a valiant ending.

The following "Andante tranquillo (Tranquilly flowing)" one [T-2] opens with a gentle, throbbing idea [00:01], which adjoins a comely melody ostensibly indicative of Angelica's love for Medoro. It apparently takes place in a woodland somewhere near Paris, and may remind you of Richard Wagner's (1813-1883) "Forest Murmurs" in the second act of His opera Siegfried (1856-71).

Then an "Allegro feroce (Fast and furious)" third [T-3] expresses Roland's frenzied behavious over Angelica'a dalliance with Medoro. It begins with frantic reminders of the work's opening measures. These have a couple of comely reminiscences of his love for her [02:16-02:52 & 05:02-06:02]. But in the end, his grief overwhelms him, and frenzied closing passages portray Roland's ultimate demise.

In 1881 Holmès completed a dramatic symphony, which was the basis for the next selection, namely her symphonic poem "Irlande (Ireland)" of 1882 [T-4]. This reflects Augusta's devotion to her father's country (see above), and begins with a lovely pastoral tune for the clarinet [00:02]. Here, to quote the composer, "A shepherd sings to you on misty hills". It evokes a sense of the Irish countryside, and is soon followed by an increasingly lively ditty [01:25] that commences a folklike episode.

Then snare drum and tuba announce a funeral march [05:47]. This depicts despondent people; however, a cor anglais calls up more optimistic moments [09:29]. They're succeeded by thunderous ones [10:39] and a thrilling march [11:08]. The latter presumably represents Ireland's venerable, past heroes and ends the work triumphantly.

The next selection is Augusta's symphonic poem "Pologne (Poland)" of 1883 [T-5]. It was inspired by the Russification of that country during the 19th century. What's more, she was probably also motivated by French artist, Tony Robert-Fleury's (1837-1911) large historical painting titled "Varsovie, Scène de l'Insurrection polonaise (Warsaw, Polish Insurrection Scene)" of 1866, which hung in the Salon (Paris).

A "Largo religioso (Slow and religious)" introduction [00:01] conjures up feelings of solemnity. But subsequent, increasingly animated passages [00:50] evoke a festive mazurka [01:26]. However, timpani rolls [03:29] plus brass fanfares with drum beats [03:32] begin a section characterizing Russian aggression, and even have allusions to the melody for the Tsar's anthem [04:02]. Then remembrances of the opening moments [06:22] as well as that mazurka [08:39] end this selection exultantly.

In 1898-99, Holmès penned a symphonic poem called "Andromède (Andromeda)" [T-6]. It's a musical characterization of an excerpt from the myth about this lady found in Roman poet Ovid's (43 BC - AD 17/18) "Metamorphoses" (8 CE). The underlying story is aptly described in the album booklet, so we'll just talk about the music. In that regard, we'll begin by saying that critics of Augusta's day tagged this as reminiscent of Hector Berlioz (1803-1869) and Richard Wagner (1803-1883).

It has a stately preface [00:01] for trombones and cellos that ostensibly represents ocean waves. Then there's an "Allegro (Fast)" segment, which opens with an assertive, descending idea [01:11] that denotes Andromeda. And subsequently, we get agitated passages [01:59] followed by menacing ones [02:47], which seemingly depict her being chained to a rock by the sea, where she's threatened by a sea monster.

However, the foregoing wane into a forlorn episode [03:32] that adjoins thrilling [05:32] in addition to heroic 07:12] moments as Perseus appears. These become valiant [08:51] when he saves her from that creature. And then, the music ebbs into a subdued version of Andromeda's theme [10:14], succeeded by an ethereally peaceful, closing episode [12:35]. The latter is ostensibly indicative of the two being immortalized in the Andromeda Constellation.

During 1888, Augusta wrote a five-movement "Ode Symphony" for narrator, chorus and orchestra. It's subtitled "Ludus pro patria (Patriotic Games)", and was apparently inspired by French artist Pierre Purvis de Chavanees's (1824-1898) eponymous, symbolist mural of 1882. This CD closes [T-7] with the "La nuit et l'amour (Night and Love)" labelled, second movement.

Marked "Andante amoroso (Slow and loving)", it begins with an affectionate preface [00:01] that engenders a winsome melody [00:27]. Then the latter undergoes a tender exploration [00:54], which gives rise to a delightful, counter melody [02:13], and both build to a moving climax [02:43]. But the latter wanes into gorgeous remembrances of the first idea [03:12], which bring the work and disc to a passionate, peaceful conclusion.

These performances are by the Deutsche Staatsphilharmonie Rheinland-Pfalz (DSpRh-Pf), which is based in Germany's Rhineland-Palatinate. Under its chief conductor, British-born-and-trained Michael Francis (b. 1976), they deliver good accounts of these selections by a composer who once said, "I am a Christian, a Catholic, a republican, and a patriot. But in my heart, I harbour a love for glorious France and poor Ireland, my two mothers". Maestro Francis and this superb orchestra make a good case for music by someone, who was also once described as courageous, self-confident and fierce.

The recordings were made 12-16 September 2022 [T-1 thru 5] and 9-10 November 2023 [T-6 & 7] in the Ludwigshafen Concert Hall. Despite the different dates, they present consistently generous sonic images of these selections in a good venue with just the right amount of reverberation. What's more, the many passages featuring solo or small groups of instruments are well captured and balanced against the DSpRh-Pf. Generally speaking, the overall orchestral timbre is about as good as it gets on conventional CDs.

-- Bob McQuiston, Classical Lost and Found (CLOFO.com, P250428)

Here's another delightful release from those venturesome Naxos folks. It has four piano concertos by Italian composer Vittorio Rieti (1898-1994). Incidentally, some of his chamber music was recommended in these pages three years ago (see 30 April 2022).

By way of background, Rieti was born in Alexandria, Egypt, where he studied music and began writing it at age 12. Then when he was 13, Vittorio moved to Italy and took piano lessons as well as composition courses at the Milan Conservatory. However, with the outbreak of World War I (1914-1918) he'd serve as an officer cadet, and when it was over, move to Rome, where he met such outstanding Italian composers as Ottorino Respighi (1879-1936), Alfredo Casella (1883-1947) and Gian Francesco Malipiero (1882-1973).

Then in 1925, Rieti went to Paris, where he got to know "Les Six" and had a highly successful musical career. However, with the advent of World War II (1939-1945), the year 1940 saw Vittorio emigrate to the United States, where he became a naturalized American citizen during 1944.

After that, he taught at Baltimore's Peabody Institute (1948-49), as well as what's now called the Chicago Musical College (CMC, 1950-64). Then Rieti moved to New York City, where he served on the faculties of Queens College (1958-60), and finally the New York College of Music (1960-64).

He then lived out his years there, and would leave a large body of works across all genres. Unfortunately, no exstensive list of them was available as of this writing. Incidentally, the three numbered concertos on this CD are world premiere recordings.

The Piano Concerto No. 1 was written in 1926, and dedicated to Francis Poulenc (1899-1963), who was one of "Les Six" (see above). In three movements, stylistically it's of neoclassical persuasion, and may bring to mind Sergei Prokokiev's (1891-1953) third effort in this genre (1913-21).

Rieti's "Allegro (Fast)" first movement [T-1] has a restless, orchestral introduction [00:02] that's soon enlivened with stabbing piano figurations [01:00]. And after that, there's a more lyrical episode [01:59], which bridges into bright, plucky passages [03:00]. Then remembrances of the opening moments [03:16] give rise to a riveting, virtuosic cadenza [03:24]. This initiates a thrilling segment that's a rousing interplay between soloist and tutti [04:04]. It ends the movement with a feeling of impudent finality [05:54].

A middle "Andantino (Leisurely)" indicated one [T-2] begins with the pianist playing a captivating melody [00:00] that soon gets some pleasing orchestral commentary [00:31]. Then the soloist returns with that opening idea [02:24], which gives rise to more animated passages for all [03:03]. These wax and wane into another delightful cadenza [05:07]. It conjoins remembrances of the movement's opening measures [05:30], which come to a blissful conclusion.

The "Allegro non troppo (Lively, but not overly so)" marked third [T-3] starts with the bassoonist playing a cheeky number [00:00] that's picked up by the soloist [00:07]. It's cause for a capricious, syncopated escapade [01:09], where the piano and orchestra chase each other about. All this brings the work to a rabid, razzle-dazzle resolution [04:00-04:09].

Eleven years later, Rieti came up with his Piano Concert No. 2 (1937), which began life in 1930 as a harpsichord concerto for Polish keyboardist, Wanda Landowska (1879-1959). However, increasingly restive times in Europe during the early 30s hindered his access to her, so he later recast it, giving us what we have here. And by the way, this was dedicated to French pianist Marcelle Meyer (1897-1958), who was favored by "Les Six" (see above).

In three movements, the "Allegro con fuoco ed energico (Fast with fire and energetic)" first one [T-4] has an explosive, timpani-enforced opening [00:01], after which the soloist makes a brash appearance [00:17]. Subsequently, the initial moments are recapped [00:50], giving way to more circumspect passages [01:44]. These become increasingly crazed and adjoin a pugnacious episode [02:56]. Then the latter closes the movement with pianistic [05:19] as well as orchestral [05:25] flourishes.

They leave listeners with a feeling of more to come, and it takes the form of an "Adagio (Slow)" middle movement [T-5]. Here the soloist first plays a curt, cocky motif [00:00] that receives a peevish tutti response [00:07]. Then the piano and orchestra engage in a somewhat stygian, extended conversation [00:17]. This ends with a relentless, lengthy piano cadenza [05:01].

It's quickly succeeded by an "Allegro (Fast)" closing movement [T-6], which starts with a tempestuous discourse [00:00] for the orchestra and soloist. This has a flighty, wind-instrument-laced episode [02:14-05:19] with a vibrant cadenza [04:15-04:43]. Then a strident orchestral outburst [05:20] ends the work in a blaze of glory.

During the mid-1950s, Vittorio wrote his Piano Concerto No. 3 (1954-55). Like No. 1, it's dedicated to Marcelle Meyer (see above) and in three movements. The first one [T-7] has a "Largo (Slow)" piano introduction [00:00] with forbidding, lengthy, left-hand notes that dialogue with right-hand-dominated, recitative-like ones.

Then the orchestra makes an abrupt "Allegro vivace (Fast and spirited)" appearance [02:39], and the two engage in a spunky, extended conversation. This becomes increasingly vivacious, but suddenly ends, only to be followed by quirky afterthoughts for all, which end the movement uneventfully.

The "Andantino poco mosso (Leisurely, but a little agitated)" second [T-8] opens with a spacey, tutti teaser [00:00] quickly followed by the soloist playing a somewhat occult theme [00:12]. The latter is then the subject of a lengthy contemplative episode for all [00:55]. This has a passionate moment [04:26-04:50], as well as some lengthy cadenzaesque closing ones [06:41-09:14].

After that, the pianist quickly begins the "Allegro (Fast)" closing movement [T-9] with a dashing ditty [00:00] that's quickly picked up by the orchestra [00:11]. It's the ostinato for a peppy, passacaglia-like episode with contrapuntal spicing [beginning at 01:10]. This has a wild last thought for all [04:06] that ends the work exultantly.

While teaching at CMC (see above), Vittorio wrote his Concerto for Two Pianos and Orchestra (1951). It has three movements, the first being an "Allegro moderato (Moderately fast)" one of "moto perpetuo (perpetuum mobile)" disposition [T-10]. This opens with a zippy number for the tutti [00:00] and soloists [00:11], which they toss about. It has frolicsome [01:39] as well as lyrical [04:15] moments, plus a jolly finishing tidbit [05:30].

An "Allegretto (Moderately fast)" marked "Tema con variazioni (Theme and Variations)" is next [T-11]. This starts with the pianos playing a winsome, folklike theme [00:00]. It's picked up by the orchestra [00:27] and then there's a brief rejoinder from the soloists [00:54].

Subsequently, the foregoing becomes the subject of several variations. These range from flighty [01:20, 01:44] to martial [02:08], marchlike [02:31], yearning [03:17] with pensive piano moments [04:07], soulful [04:54] and capricious [05:43]. Then some rather celestial ones [07:12, 09:08] have piano yawps [09:41], which herald the closing movement.

This is an "Allegro fugato (Fast fugal)" one [T-12] and begins with an orchestral flourish [00:00] followed by an accelerating segment for the soloists [00:05]. The latter gives way to the tutti playing a fast, fetching tune [00:23], which is the fugue's main subject.

It parades about [00:56], and after a pause, tintinnabular passages [01:08] bridge into saucy ones [02:39] riddled with pianistic fireworks. Then the music briefly ebbs [03:16], but soon makes a ferocious return [03:45]. Here scurrying soloists [04:16] plus a dramatic coda [05:19] bring the work and disc to a glorious conclusion.

These performances feature Italian pianists Alessandro Marangoni (b. 1979) [T-1 thru 12] and Orazio Sciortino (b. 1984) [T-10 thru 12] along with the Orchestra Sinfonica Di Milano Giuseppe Verdi (OrSinfaM) under their fellow countryman, conductor Giuseppe Grazioli. They deliver satisfying accounts of all four selections, which are welcome additions to the many works of this type written around the middle of the 20th century.

The recordings were made 20-21 August 2022 [T-1 thru 6] and 17-20 August 2023 [T-7 thru 12] in a good venue, namely the Auditorium di Milano. They consistently present satisfactory sonic images of the OrSinfaM with both soloists centered and well highlighted against it. Moreover, the pianos are very much up front and some may find them occasionally overbearing. As for the orchestral timbre, it's characterized by affable highs, good mids, and clean bass. Everything considered, this CD is about as good as conventional ones get.

-- Bob McQuiston, Classical Lost and Found (CLOFO.com, P250427)