Specs & Pricing

Music
Classical
Sonically, Sony’s single-bit remastering totally
surpasses the job it did with this material the
first time around on CD, in 1987. The bass is
firmed, the midrange much more detailed, and
the high end considerably opened up. The new
remastering delivers a more spacious image
and a meatier texture, with winds sounding
clearly and real pop on the timpani; the piano
is much more present. For Concerto No. 3,
recorded in 1961, the result seems little short
of a revelation. The sound for Concerto No. 4,
recorded in 1959, is nearly as much improved.
Much the same good news can be reported
for the Mozart selection even though the
opening attack in the first movement of
Symphony No. 28 has been partially cut
off. After all these years, one still marvels at
the ensemble, balance, and articulation Szell
and Cleveland brought to Mozart. Now it’s
possible to marvel at the beauty of their sound
as well. Once again, the older recordings—the
1958 Figaro overture and the 1960 Haffner
Symphony—remain slightly grainy, with the
violins prone to an acidulous edge in forte.
The newer ones, Symphonies Nos. 33 and 28
(from 1962 and 1965, respectively) and Eine
kleine Nachtmusik (recorded in 1968), sound
wonderful. The improvement over Sony’s
1991 20-bit remastering of this material is
striking. TL
Further Listening: Brahms: Piano
Concertos (Fleisher, Szell); Mozart:
Piano Concertos (Casadesus, Szell)
Gabriela Montero:
Bach and Beyond.
David Groves, producer; Jonathan
Allen, engineer. EMI 64647.
Here’s a different kind of crossover CD.
Instead of a classically trained singer trashing
pop songs, a formidable classical pianist
improvises on Bach themes. It comes with
the trappings of the crossover genre: plenty
of photos, including a cover showing a comehither-looking
Gabriela Montero draped over
the arm of a couch; an interview about how
much fun it is to improvise; and the mandatory
justification about connecting with audiences
and helping them get into classical music.
Montero is a prodigiously gifted pianist, a
protégé of Martha Argerich and a prizewinner
whose earlier EMI recital was well-received.
She demonstrates a facile technique, sturdy
tonal resources, and rhythmic zest. But what
we have here is a Bach soufflé prepared by a
Michelin-starred chef who whips a dollop of
Bach, touches of Latin-American rhythms, a
little Rachmaninoff, some Art Tatum, and a
dash of silent-movie-style music into a neat
dish of cocktail-lounge pianism that tickles
the palate without satisfying the appetite.
The pianist’s take on Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring,
familiar from arrangements played by Lipatti,
Kempff, and others, is nicely done but other
slower works—such as her improvisation on
the D minor keyboard concerto’s Adagio—
feature an aimlessly languid lyricism that
outlasts its interest. Typical of her freestyle
approach is the Air from Suite No. 3, where
140 December 2006 The Absolute Sound