Not much is known of the life of Giulio Regondi. According
          to the liner notes and what
                      I’ve been able to find in online sources, he was born in
                      Geneva to a German mother and Italian father. Father, a widower
                      not long after Giulio’s birth, appeared intent on creating
                      a prodigy and locked the young boy in a room, forcing him
                      to spend hours a day practising the guitar. By the time the
                      boy was seven they were on the road, at large in Europe,
                      performing for the likes of Liszt and Paganini. After being
                      introduced to the concertina during his time in Britain,
                      he mastered the instrument, acting in great part on the surge
                      in its popularity. Regondi kept an unwavering focus on these
                      two instruments, the guitar and the concertina, in not only
                      his performances but also in his composition. 
  
  The pieces on this nicely-recorded disc are touted by the liner notes as among
  the most difficult and demanding works written for concertina. The opening Remembrance for
  Baritone Concertina - which plays an octave lower than the Concertina - is
  a late piece, published during Regondi’s last year. It comprises a theme and four
  variations, preceded by an opening Larghetto, which gets things started
  off on a rather sentimental note. The somewhat wistful theme picks things up
  a bit, and the slower song-like third variation is quite beautiful, with long
  singing lines that lead to the brighter, more outgoing final variation, with
  just enough syncopation to keep things off-kilter. 
  
                    
          The following Set of Three Waltzes composed thirty
                      years earlier, are delightful light miniatures with wide
                      leaps in register and a demand for great
  control over dynamics. Especially enjoyable is the middle section of the second
  waltz, which gives a weightier statement before moving back to the lighter
                      main theme. These pieces most clearly show Regondi aiming
                      to put smiles on the faces
  of his audience. 
  
                      
          Composed with more of an aim to impress is the Hexameron of
                        1853, a melodic clutch of six virtuosic etudes intended
                        to be performed of a piece. Precise attention
  to voicing is explored in the opening etude, with a singing melodic line that
  should be heard over the rapidly arpeggiated notes that swirl around it. Much
  sensitivity in playing is required in order for this to work well, and Helmut
  Jacobs performs these pieces admirably. The second tackles rapidly-repeated
                        notes in the melodic line, with staccato chordal support.
                        Another standout in this
  piece is the closing sixth etude, with its widely-leaping rapid runs and some
  surprising chord changes along the way. 
  
                    
          Another late piece, published in the year Regondi died,
                      is the Souvenir d’amitié,
  which begins rather ominously, but brightens up into a gently undulating melody.
  This at times recalls some popular pieces arranged for parlour reed organ,
                      another instrument gaining a foothold at the time of Regondi’s death. The final movement
  is dance-like and charming, interspersed with short, more introspective sung
  sections before kicking up its heels with a sparkling close 
  
                    
          The pieces here aren’t, and weren’t intended, perhaps, to be especially weighty.
  Overall, they are quite pretty and enjoyable, striking in their confidence and
  affinity for the instrument that they helped make famous. The liner notes are
  not only helpful, but also quite interesting, giving various technical details
  of the concertina. 
  
                    
          Helmut C. Jacobs makes a strong argument for these pieces
                      and plays them deftly, showing them in a most appealing
                      light. I found it a rather unusual recording
  to be chosen for release in surround sound SACD. Concertina music? In surround
  sound? Orchestral or even ensemble music seems, from past hearing, to be best
  suited to such a medium. I’m not sure what the extra sense of aural space an
  SACD could add to this recording, but hearing it on a regular player the sound
  is very good, with a satisfying intimacy and accompanying ambience of the performance
  space. 
  
                    
          Various recordings of Regondi’s guitar works are available, both on Naxos and
  Guild, but I’ve not seen the works presented on this MDG disc released previously.
  Overall, these are quite well-presented and pleasing, recommended especially
  for those who enjoy the lighter music of the mid-nineteenth century. 
  
                    
          David Blomenberg