Julius Klengel - a Celebration
Julius KLENGEL (1859-1933)
Capriccio on a theme of Schumann for unaccompanied cello [16:33]
Three pieces for two cellos and organ [16:11]
Kleine Suite for three cellos [17:30]
Impromptu for four cellos [5:25]
Hymnus for twelve cellos [5:24]
Johann Sebastian BACH (1685-1750)
Sarabande [3:13]
Giuseppe TARTINI (1692-1770)
Adagio [2:55]
Bernhard COSSMANN (1822-1910)
Tarantelle [2:21]
David POPPER (1843-1913)
Mazurka [3:24]
Julius Klengel (cello: Bach, Tartni, Cossmann, Popper)
Raphael Wallfisch (cello: Capriccio)
Sebastian Comberti (cello: Three Pieces, Kleine Suite, Impromptu)
Sarah Butcher (cello: Three Pieces, Kleine Suite, Impromptu)
Joely Koos (cello: Kleine Suite)
Julia Desbruslais, Ben Chappell (cello: Impromptu)
Cello Classics Ensemble (Hymnus)
Martin Ennis (organ: Three Pieces)
rec. 3 May 2011, St Silas, London (Capriccio), 16 April 2009 and 22 September
2010 (other compositions by Klengel)
no information on recording dates or places for the remaining items which
are re-mastered by Morgan Roberts
CELLO CLASSICS CC1024 [72:43]
12 Cellisten der Berlin Philharmoniker
David FUNCK (1629-1690)
Suite in D major [14:02]
Julius KLENGEL (1859-1933)
Hymnus for twelve cellos [6:31]
Boris BLACHER (1903-1973)
Blues, Espagnola, Rumba philharmonica [12:39]
Jean FRANÇAIS (1912-1997)
Aubade [14:43]
12 Cellists of the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra (Eberhard Finke, Ottomar
Borwitzky, Wolfgang Böttcher, Peter Steiner, Heinrich Majowski, Gerhard
Woschny, Rudolf Weinsheimer, Christoph Kapler, Alexander Wedow, Klaus Häussler,
Jörg Baumann, Götz-Wolfgang Teutsch)
rec. 30 September 1975, Nationalgalerie, Berlin
ACANTA 233497 [48:02]
As well as such artists as Paganini and Liszt who are well known to the wider
musical world as both instrumentalists and composers there exists a second
group whose reputation is largely confined to players and devotees of their
own instruments. Such a one is Julius Klengel, who is remembered as a teacher
as well as a composer and performer. His pupils at the Leipzig Conservatoire
included Feuermann, Suggia and Piatigorsky. He wrote many technical exercises
and produced editions of many works for cello by other composers as well as
original works. It is only proper that a label entitled Cello Classics
should pay tribute to him, and this they have done in an imaginative and largely
satisfactory way.
Let me get the only - minor - criticism out of the way quickly. Klengel made
a number of recordings as a player, four of which are included here. They
certainly make fascinating listening, illustrating very well the extensive
use of portamento referred to in Sarah Butcher’s notes. No indication
is given however of the dates or circumstances under which they were recorded.
The transfers seem clear and appear to suggest two distinct dates, but this
is mere guesswork. The more showy pieces sound best, the Bach and Tartini
by comparison sounding effortful as well as inevitably being played in a style
which is not fashionable today. My criticism is of the lack of information
which prevents the listener placing these recordings in relation to Klengel’s
wider career and teaching. In themselves they are interesting but they do
not add much to this picture of Klengel.
For that we have to go to his own compositions, presented imaginatively in
increasing order of the number of cellos employed. First comes the lengthy
Capriccio for unaccompanied cello, played with total conviction and
great virtuosity by Raphael Wallfisch. This is a technical tour de force,
employing just about every device available to the instrument. As a way of
demonstrating the full range of a player’s abilities it must be unequalled.
For the listener it can seem a little unrelenting at times; I am glad to have
heard it, especially in such a performance, but I do not think I am likely
to wish to repeat the experience very often.
The remaining works however I have already listened to repeatedly with increasing
pleasure. No stylistic boundaries are extended, and there is little here that
might be described as being of great musical consequence, but they are unfailingly
beautiful and illuminatingly laid out for the instruments concerned. If after
listening to the works for two and three cellos you had come to the conclusion
that Klengel was a rather serious, even solemn, figure the Impromptu may change
your mind. It was presumably written for a specific occasion and starts with
Now thank we all our God and ends with Mendelssohn’s Wedding
March. Best of all is the well-known Hymnus for twelve cellos,
written to the memory of the conductor Nikisch and played at his funeral.
It has the merits of brevity, beauty and obvious sincerity. Like all the pieces
for multiple cellos here it is played and recorded faultlessly.
The other disc also includes the Hymnus, again in a very convincing
performance, but the remaining contents of this somewhat ungenerously filled
disc of a public concert are very different. It starts with an arrangement
of a Suite by David Funck. This is pleasant and undemanding if scarcely compelling.
The Blacher and Français items are of much greater interest, both being
written especially for “the 12 cellists of the Berlin Philharmonic”.
The former makes use of aspects of the various idioms referred to in its title
without being a mere pastiche. The latter is in six short movements, none
longer than three and a half minutes, and makes imaginative use of the skill
of the twelve players all within in the composer’s familiar idiom.
Both discs have an obvious appeal to cellists, but it would be a great pity
if others were to ignore them because of this specialist appeal. If I had
to choose I would go for the Klengel for the chance to explore the possibilities
he exploits with different combinations of cellos, but the breathtaking virtuosity
of the Berlin cellists is also well worth hearing. If you enjoy the sound
of multiple cellos it may be better not to choose but to have both.
John Sheppard
An obvious appeal to cellists but it would be a great pity if others were
to ignore these discs.
see also review of the Klengel celebration disc by Jonathan Woolf