On first acquaintance, these new ASV releases seem to have 
        a slightly more interesting agenda than some budget re-issues. The brief 
        appears to be to give us a broader picture of a composer’s output, rather 
        than simply pandering to popular taste with all the usual ‘war-horses’. 
        Take the present Copland issue. Yes, there are the ubiquitous Rodeo 
        - Dance Episodes, available in numerous alternative versions, though 
        nearly always coupled with, say, Billy the Kid or Appalachian 
        Spring. Here, we get a good cross-section of other Copland, much of 
        which is top-drawer stuff, and in superb performances. 
         
        
To deal with Rodeo first, although you are likely 
          to have a version already in your collection, don’t let that put you 
          off investigating this release. Even if the other items weren’t of real 
          interest, this is a still a cracking performance of this much-recorded 
          work. The Bournemouth Symphony play for their lives, and John Farrer, 
          whose other work I have to confess to not knowing, proves himself a 
          worthwhile advocate of the Copland style. Rhythms fizz and bounce, accents 
          are sharply etched, solo woodwind work is exceptional, and the recording 
          has tremendous weight and amplitude, altogether in the demonstration 
          category. This is a rendition worthy of Bernstein himself. 
        
 
        
The wonderful Clarinet Concerto, surely one of Copland’s 
          finest pieces, gets a similarly idiomatic performance. The contemplative, 
          slightly bluesy opening, is played with a rapt simplicity that is just 
          right. Copland packs a lot into seventeen minutes, and the mood swings 
          and marvellous variety of material are superbly judged by all. Richard 
          Horsford’s tone is warm yet full, and the support from the Chamber Orchestra 
          of Europe, here clearly enjoying themselves enormously, is as musical 
          as one could wish for. I love the virile, athletic string tone at 12.59, 
          where Copland is toying with a Brazilian hit tune in a truly jazz-like 
          fashion. The last few bars, with their overt reference to the famous 
          clarinet opening of Rhapsody in Blue, crown an invigorating and 
          satisfying reading, well up with the best. 
        
 
        
Of real interest to collectors may well be the two 
          chamber items, though there could be a hint of familiarity with one 
          of them. The Sextet in fact started out life as the Short Symphony, 
          with Copland fashioning the chamber work in response to criticism from, 
          among others, Stokowski and Koussevitsky. The rhythmic complexity they 
          obviously encountered in its orchestral form are still very much in 
          evidence in the sextet, but textures are understandably leaner and clearer. 
          A direct comparison between the two makes for very interesting listening, 
          and both versions are equally enjoyable. The spikiness of the opening 
          movement is brilliantly conveyed by Roscoe and the Vanbrugh Quartet, 
          who make light of the fidgety cross-rhythms that form the backbone of 
          the movement. Copland in super-Stravinsky mode is always exciting, and 
          it is nicely balanced by the elegiac slow section, with its hints of 
          later works to come. The finale, marked precise and rhythmic, 
          gets playing that is exactly that. There are clear echoes of the angular 
          melodic quality of the earlier Piano Variations, as well as foreshadows 
          of the later El Salon Mexico, and the tremendous forward impetus 
          is well sustained by these players. 
        
 
        
The same could be said of the Piano Quartet of 1950, 
          a fine piece not often heard today. It was composed, according to the 
          composer ‘… in a barn in Richmond, Massachusetts with a beautiful view 
          of open meadows and distant mountains’. Copland had always toyed with 
          serialism, and this piece does have hints of a tone-row, albeit eleven 
          rather than twelve (this may point to Copland’s ambivalent attitude 
          to the method). The tonal pull is always strong, and though the melodies 
          have an angularity and dissonant ‘spice’ about them, they are completely 
          memorable and distinct. The way the superb first movement unfolds in 
          great open paragraphs is a good example. The restless scherzo, which 
          Bernstein so admired, is beautifully pointed in this rendition – listen 
          to the marvellously uniform syncopations at 2.39 onwards. This is major 
          Copland, and ought to be better known. Maybe this excellent disc will 
          do the trick. 
        
 
        
Recording quality is uniformly high throughout, and 
          notes are very brief but certainly helpful. This is a cheap way to get 
          to know other aspects of this composer’s art, and it is recommended 
          unreservedly. 
        
 
        
        
Tony Haywood