The 
                  undeniable privilege of having been both a pupil and a friend 
                  of Beethoven carried it with it equally undeniable burdens - 
                  apart from the difficulties of Beethoven’s personality. This 
                  must have been an especial burden for those who had ambitions 
                  as composers in their own right. One was always likely to be 
                  regarded as of interest primarily – or even solely – for the 
                  tales one might have to tell about the master, special insights 
                  to offer. One’s own music was all too likely to be dismissed 
                  as merely a diluted version of the master’s. As a creative individual 
                  one might feel totally dominated, altogether overshadowed and 
                  inhibited by the genius one had known at close quarters, to 
                  be a victim of what, in literary circles, the critic Harold 
                  Bloom has famously called “the anxiety of influence”.
                Ferdinand 
                  Ries’s father, Franz Anton Ries was his earliest teacher and 
                  was himself a friend of Beethoven. Brought up in Bonn, Ferdinand 
                  Ries went to Munich, and then Vienna, in 1801. Beethoven helped 
                  the impecunious young man between 1801 and 1804, Ries working 
                  as a kind of secretary and copyist to the great man. He also 
                  studied with Johann Georg Albrechtsberger. He went on to a successful 
                  career as a pianist and composer which took him to many parts 
                  of Europe, including some eleven years spent in London. In later 
                  years Beethoven thought rather less well of Ries, possibly because, 
                  in 1808, Ries obtained an appointment that Beethoven himself 
                  wanted. Beethoven reportedly observed of Ries that “his compositions 
                  imitate me too much”. The remark – made out of anger - has set 
                  the tone for many later judgements. In 1838 Ries published - 
                  with Franz Wegeler - Biographische Notizen über Ludwig van 
                  Beethoven. The very real interest and value of these biographical 
                  notes has, ironically, served to distract attention, until recently 
                  at least, from Ries’s own music.
                Ries’s 
                  admiration of Beethoven endured; he often performed Beethoven’s 
                  music; he made arrangements of a number of Beethoven’s works, 
                  including a string quartet arrangement of Beethoven’s Piano 
                  Sonata No. 15 (‘Pastoral’) and a string quintet arrangement 
                  of Beethoven’s Second Symphony; during Ries’s years in London 
                  he was in large part responsible for obtaining for Beethoven 
                  the commission which resulted in the Ninth Symphony. It would 
                  have been strange indeed if there were not reminiscences of 
                  Beethoven occasionally to be heard in his own music. But his 
                  best music is far more than Beethoven and water; he seems never 
                  to have been a victim of Bloom’s “anxiety of influence” and, 
                  sensibly, not to have aspired to write music of so great a spiritual 
                  weight as that of Beethoven, preferring to find ways of being 
                  true to himself.
                These 
                  are world première recordings of two of Ries’s eight piano concertos. 
                  The earlier, written shortly after Ries’s years with Beethoven 
                  does at times sound a little like the master, especially in 
                  some of the orchestral writing; but the resemblances are neither 
                  surprising nor in any way limiting. The keyboard writing is 
                  more like Hummel, as Allan Badley suggests in the booklet notes, 
                  than Beethoven. At times one is reminded of Clementi. Ries, 
                  in short, was heir to a whole tradition, not just to one composer, 
                  however great. He has a gift for melodic invention and some 
                  of the more ornate passages surely reflect his own virtuoso 
                  skills as a pianist. The central movement – marked larghetto 
                  quasi andante – is particularly charming. The A flat concerto, 
                  composed some twenty years later, shows us a composer working 
                  in an idiom which has a grandeur of its own, and which is in 
                  no way reliant on recollections of Beethoven. This is a fine, 
                  eloquent concerto, a musical tribute to the Rhine; the first 
                  and second movements are relaxed and broad, the third more insistently 
                  energetic, some of the writing for the soloist making considerable 
                  technical demands.
                Soloist, 
                  orchestra, conductor and recording quality are all beyond reproach. 
                  The young Austrian, Christopher Hinterhuber, displays a mature 
                  understanding of the traditions out of which Ries’s music grows 
                  and is quite unphased by the more bravura passages. He finds 
                  wholly sympathetic partners in The New Zealand Symphony Orchestra 
                  and Uwe Grodd. This CD, I am pleased to report, is announced 
                  as the first volume in a projected series of the composer’s 
                  complete works for piano and orchestra. If its successors are 
                  as good as this, the series will introduce us to a lot of very 
                  attractive music.
                Glyn Pursglove
                see also Review 
                  by Colin Clarke January 
                  Bargain of the Month