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Sir Arthur Sullivan
Cylinder Recordings 1899-1916
Various Artists
Sir Arthur Sullivan's music fared well at the hands of the phonograph, with around 300 cylinders being recorded. Some were never publicly released, others do not appear to have survived, some can still be encountered with a search and good fortune, and some (usually the later issues) are still met with quite frequently in collecting circles. Presumably because of his reputation as a composer of light music, his output is quite well represented with examples of his hymns, songs, orchestral music, grand opera, comic opera, and arrangements in the form of lancers, waltzes and marches all appearing. It is true that only one in some of these categories is to be found, but few other composers can boast such a broad spread in the phonograph companies' catalogues.
This album contains examples of all of these groups, as well as a wide range of recording dates from 1899 (the earliest days of phonograph records) to 1916 (anticipating the slow demise of the cylinder format). The author of these notes has found much to enjoy listening again to this compilation, from "The Rose of Persia" selection, recorded during the original Savoy Theatre run, and the early "Here's a How De Do" from 1902 with the earliest example of a recording of Gilbert's dialogue, to the "Di Ballo" overture, with its fine playing and seamless musical cuts, and the wonderful "Mikado" lancers with the announcements, and arrangements to make the music fit into the rigid dance pattern... (read in full online)
Download it now from our Cover Page
UPGRADE to full quality 320k MP3, lossless 16-bit or 24-bit FLAC downloads, download free covers and cue sheets, scores and notes here:
PACO 006
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PRISTINE CD NEWS
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Manufacture: We've recently taken delivery of a new CD-manufacturing machine, which should speed up our CD turnaround considerably once all our master files have been converted and transferred to it. We continue to use the very highest quality discs available, and spot tests reveal much higher quality than is available from standard pressed CDs. Finally, cover artwork print quality has been further improved, with even sharper text and brighter images than previously possible.
US customers: The US postal service has recently been holding some larger packages for several days or longer, leading to delays in delivery. Please bear with us, as this is out of our control. We have enquired about alternative delivery methods - but right now a single CD sent to you via the likes of UPS would have a delivery charge of over €100! As such we're sticking with Air Mail for now. If you need it fast, please consider FLAC downloads.
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LATEST REVIEWS
| Audiophile Audition
1 May 2011 By Gary Lemco
"Marguerite Long-the angel or devil of French piano music-performs Ravel, Debussy, and Milhaud in her inimitable and even 'contradictory' style" 
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Marguerite Long (1874-1966) remains a controversial figure in French pianism, a person of admittedly strong powers as a technician and pedagogue, but no less an opportunist and manipulator who wished to be known as the greatest of French keyboard artists and the distinctly individual interpreter of the music of Faure and Ravel. The 1932 inscription of the Ravel Concerto in G (premiered in January 1932) had been long touted as having been led by the composer--it is now admitted that Pedro de Freitas Branco leads this performance (14 April 1932)--likely under the composer's supervision. Despite its age, the collaboration projects fierce energy and a variety of colors that all too often escape even today's practitioners. The tempos, rather brisk, accentuate the first movement's jazzy contours and acoustical icon-smashing. The dry affect of Long's extended solo part that opens the Adagio assai blends well with the orchestral timbres that accompany her in this bemused nocturne. The bassoons introduce the second subject with nasal clarity, and the two themes intertwine in delicate contrast until they merge in a potent crescendo that soon dissipates back into the wistful space of the opening motif. The brilliant toccata of the last movement Presto gallops and marches with slinky authority, often a parody of its jazz idiom. The critic Rene Dumesnil commented that Long's performance gives us "a model of intelligence, of finesse, and of technical perfection."
Milhaud composed his Piano Concerto No. 1 with Marguerite Long in mind, and the inscription with the composer (6 April 1935) came soon after the first performance, led by Albert Wolff. The means of the Milhaud Concerto parallel those of Ravel in several respects, but the piece has never gained anything of the prestige of the Ravel work. Small and discreet, the concerto seems tailored to the French salon, its second movement in the style of a barcarolle presenting us an angular beauty in running scales and chromatic arpeggios. The Finale (Anime) opens with a bass-heavy melody that almost plagiarizes the last movement of Prokofiev's C Major Concerto. Happily, Milhaud's essentially playful nature and his love of bell-tones in the keyboard prevent any extended paraphrasing of anybody else, and he soon opts for another toccata procedure, interrupted by a dialogue between the piano and oboe, flute, and strings. The clangorous coda may not be profound, but it proves effective.
Long recorded the two Milhaud solo works 10 May 1935. The Brazilian dance-hall seems to have inspired both pieces, cross-fertilized by Faure's syntax and touches from Les Six. The Paysandu is the more harmonically audacious of the two pieces, although one can sense Gershwin not very far away. The music wants to tango, but the figures hesitate and break up rather moodily. The Deux Arabesques of Debussy (10 July 1930) suffer some muddiness in the shellacs, but the articulation of the E Major Arabesque and its subsequent phrasing convey sensuous elegance and rhythmic chastity. The D Major casts a fleet architecturally balanced series of phrases, measured and sober. Still, the piece enjoys an animation and lithe vitality that never lose their inherent tensile strength. The little canon that concludes the work explodes demurely, if that isn't too much of a paradox. Jardins sous la pluie (13 November 1929) has rarely found as exquisite an interpreter as Moiseiwitsch, but Long makes her own case for its toccata status in wrist and touch articulation, aided by canny pedaling. La plus que lent (6 November 1929) moves a bit faster than slower-than-slow, but as an evocation of the fin-de-siecle sensibility, the performance works well.
Except for the last movement--in virtually the same tempo and phrasing--the second inscription of the Ravel G Major Concerto (12 June 1952) projects a broader scale of values, and it naturally enjoys an improved fidelity from its more modern sound technology. The orchestral definition benefits immeasurably; and in such a jazz-oriented score, the bluesy environment opens up like a flower finally given water and sunlight. Conductor Tzipine (1907-1987) relished the modern French school of composers, and his application of colors never ceases to charm. The last few pages of the first movement with Long and Tzipine seem to have proved a model for the later inscription by Entremont and Ormandy. Less sec and detached in her approach to the Adagio, the feeling for legato provides an alternative sentimentalized perspective to Long's vision of this plastic music. Long openly confessed she had contradicted Ravel's intentions here. But the last movement restores Ravel's whirlwinds and jazzy tornadoes in full Technicolor. Did Marguerite Long really have to "bully" Ravel into giving her this music's dedication? Release reviewed:
PASC 285 M. Long
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LATEST REVIEWS
| Gramophone
May 2011 By Rob Cowan
"It is a somewhat poignant experience to hear this fine player 80 years after his life and career were so cruelly cut short" 
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I was very pleased to see that Pristine Classical has reissued Albert Sammons's vital and musically persuasive 1926 account of Beethoven's Kreutzer Sonata, a Performance that pre-dates the great Huberman-Friedman version and that, in some key respects, is almost its equal. Regarding Sammon's pianist, the Australian William Murdoch, the critic William James Turner wrote (in 1916), "even when we get to the best pianists it is rarely, if ever, that we find a combination of exceptional technical mastery with tone-power, delicacy of touch, brilliance, command of colour, sensitiveness of phrasing, variety of feeling, imagination and vital passion. Mr Murdoch possesses all these qualities to a high degree."
Pristine's coupling is a real curio and, at first glance, something of a find - Sammons in 1937 playing Faure's First Sonata, a work which, so far as I know, is not otherwise represented in his discography and that suits his refined brand of emotionalism. But, alas, there is a significant drawback in the piano-playing of Edie Miller, which is ham-fisted to a fault and in one or two places technically well below par, not exactly what you want for the fragile world of Faure's piano-writing. But if you can blank out the pianist from your listening, it's worth trying for Sammons's wonderful contribution alone. Otherwise, stick to the Beethoven. Release reviewed:
PACM 072 Sammons
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CONTENTS
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Editorial Decoding Furtwängler's Ring recording Furtwängler Ring Part 3: Siegfried
Sitkovetsky Sibelius, Paganini violin concertos
PADA Reginald Kell plays Saint-Saëns
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Editorial - Decoding Furtwängler's Ring Recording
What a close-up, forensic remastering process reveals It's been another week of total Wagner immersion, just as next week will be as I complete the final stages of Furtwängler's Götterdämmerung and thus the 1953 Ring Cycle, and what with spending hours and hours in the studio with almost nothing but Wagner coming out of the monitors it feels like I've heard little else for quite a long time! This week of course sees the third of the four Ring epics, Siegfried, released in its 32-bit XR-remastered form, and now I'm well past the halfway stage I've been able to make a few interesting deductions about how the whole thing was first recorded, then archived, then brought back to life - first by EMI in 1972 on LP, then later with further issues on LP and CD. What first struck me, beyond the differences I've previously discussed in overall sound quality between EMI's LP and CD issues - and that of Gebhardt - is one rather glaringly obvious content difference that graces the CDs but not the LPs: applause. I was surprised to hear it on the CDs, some rather unconvincing applause at the end of each act, where none was present in the original LP issue. Why could this be? Did they an alternative source for the CDs? I don't think so, for reasons I'll come to shortly. A crucial insight came with Siegfried, where a couple of unusual clunks in the applause at the ends of the second and third acts caught my ear for their surprising similarity. Perhaps a little over-exposure to the pianistic, er, conjuring skills of Joyce Hatto's CDs a few years ago has got to me, but this applause sounded very fishy indeed! So I lined the two sections of applause up against each other and, lo and behold, they were identical. A different chunk of applause had been used for the end of the first act, but the same short recording of clapping and cheering had been tacked onto the ends of both the second and third acts. I switched to Götterdämmerung, and there it was again - a length of canned applause used twice at the ends of the second and third acts, once again different to the first. This time there was some apparent attempt to disguise the two identical sections of canned delight, with the final burst having been equalised to sound much brighter than the penultimate cheers, but there's no doubting they were in facts culled from the same place. This certainly fitted with my theory that the applause didn't belong there; there's something instantly recognisable about a spontaneous human response to a great performance, and this never sounded much like it. Curiously it appears on the Gebhardt CDs as well as the EMI ones - but who added it, when, and why? If you look and listen closer at the EMI CDs (sorry, I really can't bear to listen to the heavily compressed Gebhardt, where a dynamic range of about 30dB contrasts to nearly 80dB in the Pristine issue and the equalisation gives me earache), and you'll find a few unusual clues as to the probable provenance of their masters... One eminent reviewer stated that EMI had gone back to "the original master tapes" for their release, but I think he's possibly been misled at some point by some muddying of historical waters. Furthermore, I strongly doubt the original master tapes still exist - I suspect they were quite probably erased and re-used in about 1954. Let's go back to the 1950s for a moment. It's a reasonable guess that RAI's tape recorders at the time would have run at a whopping 30 inches per second - double the standard top master-tape speed I encountered at the BBC in the last years of tape use there. This would allow each ten-inch tape reel to hold approximately 15 minutes of audio. If we assume a similar studio set-up to BBC radio operations of the era, a tape technician would have operated a row of tape recorders in a quiet, separate booth to the main studio control room, and would have been charged purely with loading and un-spooling tape from a his machines, making sure everything was properly captured, labelled and stored. With the Furtwängler Ring, assuming therefore one reel per 15 minutes, that's nearly sixty reels just for the main performances. Add to that at least another 120 reels for the rehearsals, possibly more, and you've got a major storage issue on your hands. What's more, tape was expensive, and nobody knew how long it might last. For long-term archiving at the time a number of radio stations relied sensibly on a tried and trusted technology: disc. The final master reels, after broadcast, would then have been sent to an archive department to have them dubbed onto metal master discs, from which future copies could be pressed onto vinyl as and when required. I'll admit this is (educated) guesswork, informed to an extent by the dismal memory of carrying out the opposite process as a junior BBC trainee: copying the corporation's vast radio programme archives, LP side by LP side, from 33rpm BBC vinyl pressings onto quarter-inch tape. If only they'd foreseen the imminent arrival of digital archiving! Another thing which took place at the BBC as recently as the 1990s was a degree of tape recycling. An entire department at the World Service headquarters (OK, a few people working in a big room there) was dedicated to Tape Reclamation, gathering together usable lengths of unwanted used tape, editing it together, then bulk-erasing the content using a big electromagnet - having first removed their wristwatches! All that tape at RAI would have been worth a fortune in 1953 - it seems hard to believe they wouldn't think about doing the same once they'd carefully made reliable disc copies of each master; public radio stations generally had neither the resources nor the incentives of the major record companies to hold onto this kind of thing, and nobody would have imagined its commercial value in the decades to come, nor foreseen the early death of Furtwängler before he could record the Ring "properly" for EMI as then planned. We know from the notes which come with the 1972 LP release that the first step towards their reissue project's completion was the rough assembly of the entire Ring using Elisabeth Furtwängler's own copies of the discs, presented to her by RAI, and - curiously - each side lasting 15 minutes. Or perhaps it's not so curious, as each tape lasts 15 minutes as well... Having established that the project was viable, EMI returned to RAI and had vinyl disc copies made from the original metal masters, which were then transferred to tape ready for LP remastering. Curiously, the first 30 minutes of the first opera, Das Rheingold, is of significantly lower quality than the rest - were the original parts damaged or missing for the first archive disc? Did they resort to Elisabeth Furtwängler's worn copy for the first LP side? Did someone at RAI's archive department screw up back in 1954? Someone somewhere probably has (or had) an answer to that particular question. Whatever the story, by 1971 EMI finally had a set of master tapes - which were copies of vinyl pressings, pressed from metal masters, cut from the original RAI tapes - and were able to issue their 36 sides of 12" 33rpm LPs, which corresponded to 72 sides of RAI archive discs - and contained no applause. I'm pretty sure now that EMI used these same tapes - albeit with some 1990-era remastering - when they first issued the Ring on CD. (I've been told about a mid-80s LP reissue which apparently was considered something of a sonic mess, but I've not heard it so I'll skip over it for now, but I see no major reason to start again with the disc transfer business between 1971 and, say, 1985.) How do we know for sure that EMI used the same source as in 1972, rather than the "original master tapes" as suggested in the review? The dead give-away is midway through Siegfried, where a section of 33rpm surface swish graces both the 1972 LPs and the 1990 CDs (and the Gebhardt, no doubt). By itself this would suggest that no master tapes exist and that the CD issue, like the LP issue before, had to use disc transfers. Now whilst it is possible that new vinyl copies were made in order to make new master tapes ready for CD issue, as I've already suggested, it seems unlikely as there would be little sonic advantage given the primitive options for digital remastering back in 1990. What you do find in the CD version is regular evidence of early de-clicking technology in operation, which had a tendency to leave clunks or bumps behind. The EMI CDs have all the hallmarks of an early digital vinyl clean-up - including some lovely end-of-side distortion during loud sections where they occur the climactic ends of acts - coincidentally at the end of 15-minute sides. All of this could probably not have been helped in 1990, and so it's a shame that with their 125th anniversary reissue this year they decided they could be bothered to revamp the packaging, but couldn't be bothered to clean up the mess they left behind on the 1990s CDs. That would surely have been reasonably straightforward for Abbey Road in 2010. This all brings us back to the question of the mystery applause. Does EMI have a stock selection of "1950s studio applause"? Probably. Why use it on their CDs? I can think of a number of reasons, none of which does them much credit, I'm afraid. The musical content clearly came from the same original source as the 1970s LPs, so why blur the issue with some ineptly hacked and unconvincing clapping and cheering? And did a disillusioned EMI engineer in 1990 deliberately use the same crummy applause more than once as a kind of silent protest at this pointless desecration? One can only speculate - some secrets are likely to stay secret. Whatever the answer, you won't hear any applause on any of our releases of this Ring cycle, convincing or otherwise! Andrew Rose, May 6, 2011
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Furtwängler's mighty 1953 Ring
Part 3: Siegfried
Another astonishing 32-bit sonic transformation
thanks to XR remastering
WAGNER Siegfried
Recorded 1953
Producer and Audio Restoration Engineer: Andrew Rose
Siegfried Ludwig Suthaus
Wanderer Ferdinand Frantz
Mime Julius Patzak
Alberich Alois Pernerstorfer
Fafner Josef Greindl
Woodbird Rita Streich
Brünnhilde Martha Mödl
Erda Margarete Klose
Orchestra Sinfonica di Roma della RAI
conductor Wilhelm Furtwängler
Downloads include full scores of each act
Web page: PACO 059 Short Notes This week sees Pristine's astounding 32-bit XR remastering of Wilhelm Furtwängler's 1953 Ring Cycle reach the third of its four parts with his brilliant Siegfried - one of the most challenging of Wagner's operas. Recorded live in RAI's main studio auditorium in Rome, an act at a time over three nights in 1953, Furtwängler's mastery of Wagner is clear throughout - no wonder the original LP release of this series was hailed as "the gramophone event of the century" by Deryck Cooke. Available as four CDs, MP3s, or in continuous, uninterrupted 24-bit and 16-bit FLAC downloads, this is a recording no Wagnerian nor Furtwängler-lover can afford to be without.
Notes on the transfers: There are two full recordings of Wagner's Ring cycle conducted by Furtwängler, but neither is the full studio recording planned by EMI to begin in 1954 and left incomplete by the conductor's death at the age of 68 on 30th November of that year. There is a 1950 recording of his La Scala cycle, and this, a series of recordings made for broadcast on Italian radio (RAI) across ten sessions in October and November 1953 in front of a very quiet invited audience.
The final broadcasts were cut from both these recordings and taped rehearsal sessions, as chosen by Furtwängler and the RAI engineers the day after recording. The recordings were broadcast a short time after but were not commercially issued until the early 1970s on LP by EMI.
In working on these new Pristine 32-bit XR remasterings I've made a few interesting discoveries and come to a few conclusions. First of all, the recordings were most probably originally recorded onto tape at 30 inches per second, with each reel running for about 15 minutes. The recordings were made an act at a time, and where necessary rehearsal material was cut into the live performance recording prior to broadcast a few days later.
The final masters were preserved as vinyl discs (with metal masters), each side representing a tape reel - at this time it was common to preserve radio broadcasts on disc; the medium was both proven and much less space-hungry than tape, which was expensive and could of course be erased and re-used. Thus when EMI mastered the original 1972 LP release, they worked from tape dubs of new vinyl pressings made from RAI's metal masters, and it is likely that these same tape dubs served for future releases, both on vinyl and CD. Certainly there is more than enough evidence of vinyl origins in EMI's 1990 CDs which matches flaws on their 1972 LPs - swish, clicks etc. The bizarre difference between the two is in badly-dubbed applause at the end of each act, present on the CDs but absent on the LPs. Bizarre indeed - the same canned applause was used at the ends of both Acts Two and Three in the present recording! It also appears in the same form in the Gebhardt CD reissue but is absent here. Andrew Rose Review LP issue (excerpts), 1972, The Gramophone: "Solti has gone on record as saying that although Furtwängler was, of course, a tremendous conductor of Wagner, a different, more dynamic approach is necessary today; but it is a mistake to equate dynamism with speed. For example, Solti begins the storm-music which opens Die Walküre at a tremendous pace (before slowing down, surprisingly, to a much steadier tempo), but the result is that he loses the dynamism of the pounding crotchets in the bass, which, when taken at a less hectic tempo, as by Furtwangler, create a much greater dramatic intensity owing to the fact that every one of them can be heard making its separate mark. Other examples are the swift quavers in two-four time which Wagner used to portray Siegfried's anger with Mime-at Solti's very fast tempo they have great impetuosity but no real weight- and the prelude to Act 3 of Siegfried where, in spite of the general atmosphere of excitement, the figure portraying the gallop of Wotan's horse becomes merely an agitated accompaniment of no particular significance. And sometimes the tempo is too fast to allow the singers to shape their vocal lines properly, as at the end of the love-duet for Siegfried and Brünnhilde in the Prelude to Götterdämmerung, where Brünnhilde's descending phrase to the words "Heil, strahlendes Leben! Heil, siegendes Licht!" becomes a kind of glissando rather than a sequence of eight separate notes. Indeed, Solti rarely tries to accommodate the awkward passages for the singers, as both Furtwängler and Karajan nearly always do...
...Suthaus does make a really fine Siegfried, of the true heroic stamp, and is outstanding in his surprisingly delicate delivery of the phrases of the Woodbird in the narration leading up to his death, as well as in the agonised delivery of his dying apostrophe to Brünnhilde; but Windgassen, Thomas and Brilioth all bring out the youthful impetuosity of the character much more successfully. The baritones and basses are all outstanding: the name of Gottlob Frick is sufficient to guarantee the parts of Fafner the giant, and Hunding (and he is in just as fine form as on the Decca recording); Josef Greindl was the same kind of singer of his time, and he brings great power to the parts of Fasolt, Fafner the dragon, and Hagen ; and Alfred Poell makes a splendidly virile Donner, though he is perhaps too virile as the weak and vacillating Gunther. The Decca singers of these parts are equally impressive, especially Frick and Fischer-Dieskau, but those on the DGG recording are less so, with the exception of Thomas Stewart's Gunther, which is much more successful than his Wotan. Again, the name of Sena Jurinac is sufficient to guarantee the parts of Gutrune, the first Rhinemaiden, and the third Norn, and those of Elisabeth Grümmer and Rita Streich to guarantee the parts of Freia and the Woodbird respectively. Where Furtwängler really scores is with his two singers for the part of Erda: Ruth Siewert and Margarete Klose bring that atmosphere of deep mystery which Alec Robertson found lacking in the singers in the other two recordings, and Siewert brings to the Rheingold Erda's warning to Wotan a really blood-chilling note of menace..." MP3 Sample Act 1 - last 15 minutes ListenDownload purchase links: Ambient Stereo MP3 Mono 16-bit FLACAmbient Stereo 16-bit FLAC Ambient Stereo 24-bit FLACCD purchase links and all other information: PACO 059 - webpage at Pristine Classical
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Two superb concerto recordings from tragic Russian virtuoso
The greatest violinist I have ever heard" - Yehudi Menuhin Sibelius and Paganini
JULIAN SITKOVETSKY
Recorded 1953 and 1955
Producer and Audio Restoration Engineer: Andrew Rose
SIBELIUS Violin Concerto in D minor Op. 47
Czech Philharmonic Orchestra
Nikolai Anossov conductor
PAGANINI Violin Concerto No. 2 in B minor Op. 7
Moscow Youth Radio Symphony Orchestra
Mark Pavelman conductor
Julian Sitkovetsky violin
Web page: PASC 290 Short Notes When Yehudi Menuhin hails another as "the greatest violinist I have ever heard", you may wonder to whom he refers. And if that violinist is one Julian Sitkovetsky (and it is), you may be wondering who he is referring to, why he's not a worldwide star, why you've never seen him play... A brilliant Russian virtuoso, Sitkovetsky died in 1958 from lung cancer at the tragically young age of 32, with few recordings to his name and very few concert tours. His son, the eminent conductor and violinist Dimitri Sitkovetsky, rated his father's Sibelius Concerto as among his very best - now in this new XR transfer you can hear for yourself what a loss his early demise was for music lovers everywhere.
Recording Notes
The Sibelius concerto recording by Julian Sitkovetsky came to me in a collection of discs transferred for Pristine Classical's streaming audio service by Dr. John Duffy, accompanied by another recording made by Anossov with the Czech Philharmonic. The name Sitkovetsky rang a bell - a few years ago we briefly issued a recent live recording made locally by his son, Dmitry Sitkovetsky, also a world-renowned violinist - and when I heard the performance here I determined to find out more. Alas Julian Sitkovetsky's recordings are understandably few, and some of what have survived are of poor technical quality. Happily the two concerto recordings presented here were both of sufficient quality to make a full 32-bit XR remastering not only beneficial but highly worthwhile. Despite some surface noise at times on Dr. Duffy's Supraphon sides, much of which I've been able to alleviate, and some rather rough tone at times from the Moscow Youth Radio Symphony Orchestra, Sitkovetsky's playing shines throughout these recordings, and is a consistent joy to hear. Background Gary Lemco "Yehudi Menuhin spoke affectionately of Russian violinist Yulian Sitkovetsky (1925-1958) as "the greatest violinist I have ever heard." Vladimir Ashkenazy called Sitkovetsky "a legendary violinist with a unique and demonic talent." Besides having participated in and having won prizes at the All Soviet Union Young Performers Competition, the Prague Festival of Young Musicians, the Wieniawski Competition, and the Queen Elizabeth of Belgium Violin Competition, Sitkovetsky premiered concertos by Rakov, Milman, and Albert Lehman. Unfortunately, Sitkovetsky's sweet art was denied Western audiences when lung cancer claimed him 23 February 1958. In an interview with his son, Dimitri, at Emory University, Atlanta, Dimitri claimed that his father excelled in the concertos by Sibelius and Glazounov, and was a ferociously dedicated chamber music advocate." from Audiophile Audition MP3 Sample Sibelius Violin Concerto, 3rd movement ListenDownload purchase links: Ambient Stereo MP3 Mono 16-bit FLACAmbient Stereo 16-bit FLAC Ambient Stereo 24-bit FLACCD purchase links and all other information: PASC 290 - webpage at Pristine Classical
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PADA Exclusives Streamed MP3s you can also download
SAINT-SAËNS
Clarinet Sonata, Op. 167
Reginald Kell clarinet Brooks Smith piano
Recorded 27 May, 1957 Issued as US Decca DL-9941
This transfer is presented with Ambient Stereo remastering by Dr. John Duffy.
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