Compact Disc Reviews
Written in 1989 for "The Billboard Book of Audio"

The Beatles: Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.
After more than twenty years there's very little left unsaid about Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band. In 1987 Rolling Stone placed it at the top of the list of the 100 most important albums of the past two decades, and there's little anyone can do but concur. That being said, let's address the album's transfer to the digital medium. When it finally hit the racks, two decades to the day after the LP's release, it was treated as a media event tantamount the first lunar landing. (And rightly so, for just as some people can tell you just what they were doing when Armstrong made his famous walk — which is no big deal, really; they were watching it on television — others have vivid memories of the day they first heard "Sergeant Pepper.") Well, the hoopla was justified. Even a casual audition of the disc reveals a richness of detail that is just hinted at on the LP. Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band is more than a collection of wonderful songs; it's a studio album whose riches were beyond the reach of 1967 playback technology. That such an obvious effort to make a recording that was better than it had to be is a tribute to The Beatles and their producer, George Martin. Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band is a milestone recording, and one which belongs in the library of anyone who claims to care about contemporary music.

Jimmy Buffett: You Had to Be There.
Jimmy Buffett concerts are as much parties as musical events, so the title of this two-disc recording of 1978 performances in Atlanta and Miami is particularly apt. (Indeed, the liner notes include credit to the two "last minute literary aces" who provided album title advice.) Buffett and his backup group, The Coral Reefer Band, clearly enjoy their work, a fact which is appreciated by the fans lucky enough to have been there. The 1977 hit "Margaritaville" transformed him from a minor phenomenon with a small, but dedicated, following into a true pop star. The 19 songs on You Had to Be There include much of Buffett's best material, and the performances are spirited and loads of fun for everybody involved. Some critics find it easy to criticize him as a one-dimensional performer, but the range of songs presented here run the gamut from the philosophical "A Pirate Looks at Forty" and "He Went to Paris" to the blatantly hedonistic "Why Don't We Get Drunk and Screw" and "Grapefruit-Juicy Fruit." Jimmy Buffett is, of course, still very much an active performer, so if you have to be there, go for it. But if you want the closest thing to the real thing, put You Had to Be There on the system, mix up an hour-and-three-quarter's worth of margaritas, and kick off your shoes: after the second or third cool one it won't be hard to imagine yourself surrounded by throngs of dancing revellers, partying in Margaritaville.

The Grateful Dead: American Beauty.
This album, originally issued in 1970, by all rights should have enjoyed the same popularity as 1987's In the Dark. It's a brilliant collection of songs, performed with consummate skill and recorded with more care than you'd think, given the group's well-known antipathy towards studio work. From the opening chords of "Box of Rain" through the closing of "Trucking" each song is a perfect vignette, evoking strong images that hold up well almost two decades later. The instrumental lines provide the lyrics with near-perfect counterpoint: Phil Lesh's bass on "Friend of the Devil" and guest artist Dave Grisman's mandolin on "Ripple" deserve specific mention, but none of the songs can be singled out as weak in this area.

The Grateful Dead: In the Dark.
After more than two decades as one of the major cult legends of rock, the Grateful Dead became big news in 1987. They had a top-ten album, a hit a single, and a video on MTV. The New Yorker (yes, the New Yorker) reviewed their concert with Bob Dylan, and Rolling Stone — after years of (at best) benign neglect — has, of late, devoted considerable space to them. What's going on here? Has the mainstream music establishment decided that the hordes of Deadheads who have supported the group over the years know something they don't? Who knows, but the Dead's first "studio" album in seven years is big news and it's not hard to see why: it's a great album. The group has never been totally comfortable with the traditional studio setting, preferring to record live, so when it came time to record In the Dark they decided to split the difference. The basic tracks were laid down in real time, with the band playing in an empty club. The signal was routed to a state-of-the-art sound truck parked outside, allowing for the control (over sound quality) that a studio milieu assures. The the result captures much of the Dead's renowned spontaneity while assuring them of a collection of songs that are suitable in every respect for airplay. In the Dark is arguably the group's best effort since the classic American Beauty (which by rights should have enjoyed this album's success years ago). The songs — especially the hugely popular "Touch of Grey" — are a delight, and the unusual recording scheme has yielded an album whose sound is, especially on CD, rich and clear.

The Jefferson Airplane: 2400 Fulton Street.
Although the Jefferson Airplane was the philosophical antithesis of the Grateful Dead, together the two groups defined the San Francisco sound of the sixties. The Dead are still with us, pretty much in its original form, while the Airplane has evolved several times, so it's easy to forget the impact they had on their era. The group was in its heyday between 1965 and (roughly) 1971 and during that time some pretty sorry stuff was released along with the gems, but enough of the latter exist to form the most of the basis for a tightly-packed two disc set, and that's what you get when you plunk down your cash for a copy of 2400 Fulton Street. (The title is derived from the address of the house that the group bought to live and work in, and which became known as "Airplane House.") In fact, the CD version contains ten songs missing from the LP set, for which we thank RCA. Arbitrarily divided into four sections (Beginnings, Psychedelia, Revolution, and Airplane Parts), 2400 Fulton Street is more than a collection of greatest hits. It opens with "It's No Secret" and ends with (of all things) the group's Levi commercials. In between are both classics and a few of the Airplane's lesser-known efforts. One, "Third Week in the Chelsea" is a sad, touching song by Jorma, explaining why he was leaving the group. Originally released on the dismal Bark, it never received the recognition it deserved. Sonically 2400 Fulton Street is excellent: RCA has done a fine job of remastering (much better than the original CD release of Surrealistic Pillow) and the songs have much more punch than you might remember from your college LPs. A winner.

Leo Kottke: 6 and 12 String Guitar.
The legendary Leo Kottke, who can make the twelve string guitar sound as rich as a pipe organ, has released an impressive collection of discs over the years, but to these ears the best of the lot is still his original solo effort for John Fahey's Takoma label. First of all, it contains no singing. Kottke's own liner notes compare his voice to "geese farts on a muggy day" and while we wouldn't go that far, later discs with singing provide ample justification for an all-instrumental album. More important is the fact that 6 and 12 String Guitar is undiluted Kottke. Later albums, for all of their charm, are collaborative efforts. Much of the fun in listening to Leo Kottke lies in wondering how he manages to make so much happen at once on a single guitar; the addition of extra musicians makes this impossible, for the answer becomes "he doesn't: so-and-so is playing too." All of the songs on 6 and 12 String Guitar were written by Kottke, save one: Bach's "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring." Now "serious" guitarists have made this classic a staple of their repertoire, and they might play it with a bit more finesse, but none of them imbues it with Kottke's passion and sheer impact. If you don't know Kottke's work, or have only heard him as a guest on the late, lamented "Prairie Home Companion," pick up a copy of 6 and 12 String Guitar and prepare to be delighted.

Pink Floyd: The Wall.
Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, a steady and reassuring presence on the top-100 album list since Edison-cylinder days, might be the group's most successful album, but The Wall is arguably its best piece of work. This is especially so when you look at each as a "conceptual" work — which is how they seem to have been envisioned. A double album whose length requires two CDs as well, The Wall is a work whose pretentious lyrics (thoughtfully included in the liner notes) would disqualify it from serious consideration were it not for the fact that it is a musical and sonic masterpiece. Phil Spector's legendary "wall of sound" pales into shoji-panel insignificance when compared with some of The Wall's textures. But all is not thick and turgid, especially on the wonderfully clean CD version. Solo instruments and small ensembles are presented with great clarity and — equally important — with a good sense of their positions in space. This is especially true of the youth choir: beyond being effective in context, the entrance of the choir is sonically quite striking. As always with this group, production values are very high and on balance we'd say that The Wall belongs on the "A" side of any prospective CD library's want list.

Vangelis: Opera Sauvage.
Opera Sauvage was written by Vangelis as background music for the French television series of the same name. (That makes us immediately suspicious. Any country that can use the words "Jerry Lewis" and "genius" in the same sentence has got a seriously flawed entertainment sensibility. We wouldn't be surprised if top prime time ratings went to Mr. Ed and My Mother the Car. But we digress.) You'll be surprised, then, to learn that you've heard some of the music, probably lots of times. That's because not only did it figure prominently in the soundtract to The Year of Living Dangerously, but also served as background to a series of very successful beer (or car, or wine cooler..., come to think of it, maybe they weren't so successful) commercials. But if you haven't heard any of Opera Sauvage you still know Vangelis, for he composed the music for Chariots of Fire, and that particular theme was virtually unavoidable for quite a while. And what of Opera Sauvage? Unlike much of Vangelis' posturing, Opera Sauvage holds together as music. It's vaguely New Age, but not enough so that you find yourself wanting to hurt something. There's melody, and texture, and even (sometimes) a beat. So put aside any preconceived notions about Vangelis, France, TV themes, and New Age Music, and give Opera Sauvage a listen. It's worth the trouble.

Jimmy Buffett: Songs You Know by Heart.
Among the cognoscenti this collection of Jimmy Buffett's greatest hits probably lives up to its presumptuous name. But the likelihood is (at least as we see it) that those fortunates who already know these tunes well enough to sing along already own the records from which the collection is culled, and don't really need a greatest hits collection. By contrast, those of you whose knowledge of the Buffett oeuvre starts with "Margaritaville" and ends with "Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes" (both from 1977, both on this disc) are in for a treat. The 13 selections in Songs You Know By Heart serve both to demonstrate Buffett's enormous (and wide-ranging) talent as a singer/songwriter and to explain why he's so hard to pigeon-hole. Jimmy Buffett doesn't sing rock, or folk, or country, or anything else you might be inclined to name; he sings Jimmy Buffett songs, and he does it better than anyone else. Each song could be a screenplay, but it's much more fun to close your eyes and let the stories unfold. Imagine the life described in "He Went to Paris;" feel the hunger of the sailor who wants a "Cheeseburger in Paradise;" dream the dreams of the swain who wishes he had a "Pencil Thin Mustache." In their own way, these songs, along with the rest of the tunes on Songs You Know By Heart, are classics. From a sonic standpoint, too, Songs You Know By Heart leaves little to be desired. Naturally, the original recordings were made on analogue equipment, but the remastering has been done with exceptional care and taste and the result is a disc whose sound is exemplary. So if you already know these songs by heart, buy the disc for its sound and convenience. And if you're a newcomer to Jimmy Buffett's world, buy it and you'll soon feel like a life-long resident.

Dire Straits: Alchemy.
This two-disc set documents Dire Straits' 1983 concert tour, and carries the following apology: "The music on this Compact Disc was originally recorded July, 1983 on analog equipment. We have attempted to preserve, as closely as possible, the sound of the original recording. Because of its high resolution, however, the Compact Disc can reveal limitations of the source tape." Pretty heady stuff, but unnecessary, for in spite of their "humble" origins, these discs provide an excellent sonic stage, and the "limitations" to which they refer are inconsequential. What is more important is the fact that these superb performances, of mostly familiar tunes, are not simply live renditions of the studio cuts. For one thing, the drumming is much more alive and imaginative, and for another, everyone seems to be having a genuinely good time. In his guitar solos, Mark Knopfler manages to display his virtuosity without coming across like an egomaniac. (Rock fans who grew up in the sixties are having a hard time getting used to the idea of guitar solos that actually relate to the song being played.) We could have done without the three-minute go-nowhere introduction that precedes the opening number ("Once Upon a Time in the West"), but producers of concert albums seem to need to prove that an audience was, indeed, present. At least with a CD player you can "fast forward" to the beginning of the actual song. But that's a minor cavil. On balance, Alchemy is a must-have for Dire Straits' fans, and an excellent "greatest hits" collection.

Glenn Miller Orchestra: In the Digital Mood.
There are those music lovers for whom the Swing Era represents the high water mark in Western music. Most of us won't go quite that far, but it's an aloof soul indeed that isn't stirred by the sound of a Big Band. A good Big Band has a drive, an impact, that's unlike any other type of musical group, and if the Glenn Miller Orchestra doesn't epitomize the improvisational aspects of the genre, it certainly typifies the sound of the era. The original charts used by the Glenn Miller Orchestra have been very active in the four decades since Miller's wartime death over the English Channel. Indeed, there's a touring orchestra that uses the Glenn Miller name, and it is the conductor of that group that led the New York session men who made this recording. You might not know the names of all ten of the songs on this Disc, but you'll certainly recognize them: "In the Mood," "Moonlight Serenade," "Tuxedo Junction" and "String of Pearls" are part of this country's musical heritage, and you're not likely to hear them with greater clarity elsewhere. The recording is digital throughout, and the sound is stunning. The only problem with In the Digital Mood is its brevity. Twice as much music could have been accommodated (and probably would have, had this been simply a reissue of old material — as it is, this couldn't have been a cheap project, so let's be thankful for what we get!).

Pink Floyd: Dark Side of the Moon.
If you've ever bought a pair of speakers in a real hifi store (as opposed to a catalogue house or department store) odds are that the salesman used this album as part of the demo process. Musically speaking, Dark Side of the Moon is one of the all-time great albums, but it's also a one-disc torture test for your hifi system. Want to know if your speakers can put out real bass? See how well they handle the famous heartbeats. Wondering about top end transient response? Check out the sound effects in "Money." Dark Side of the Moon is chock full of these little challenges, and thanks to the magic of digital audio you can use it to impress your friends over and over again without worrying about the dreaded groove wear. We compared the CD with three different pressed vinyl versions (standard, audiophile, and imported) and there's no question but that the CD is superior. The digital disc version is cleaner, has fuller, tighter bass, and razor-sharp transients. And — isn't this wonderful! — you don't have to turn it over to hear side 2.

Larry Adler: Live at the Ballroom.
Larry Adler, whose career as a harmonica virtuoso began in 1928, is one of the true legends of old-time show biz. In the same way that Segovia single-handedly transformed the image of the guitar, Adler has turned the harmonica into a respectable concert instrument. Indeed, the roster of "serious" composers who created works for Adler includes such luminaries as Ralph Vaughan Williams, Darius Milhaud, and Heitor Villa-Lobos. Of course, the instrument is still primarily thought of in terms of popular music, and it is in that connection that most of Adler's TV performances are remembered. This disc, which is not a transfer of old material, but a brand new digital recording, features Adler's renditions of 15 great tunes from the "golden age" of American popular music, along with two selections in a more serious vein. One is an abbreviated version of George Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue, the other the "Minuet" from Bizet's L`Arlasienne. What makes these two selections so engaging (aside from Adler's astonishing skill) are the accompaniments, which are by George Gershwin and Sergei Rachmaninoff, respectively, courtesy of the reproducing piano at New York's Ballroom. Reproducing pianos are, in essence, highly sophisticated player pianos; so sophisticated that many of the greatest musicians of their time used them to create an accurate records of their playing. The Gershwin is particularly poignant, as Adler played the piece with Gerswhin some 53 years earlier, in an impromptu performance at a party. On the popular side, the reproducing piano allows Vincent Youmans to provide the accompaniment for his "Tea for Two," while Ellis Larkins provides the accompaniment on the remaining 14 tunes. The recording, which was made live at the aforementioned Ballroom, is terrific: the combination of ambience and definition is just right. If you've ever huffed and puffed into a Hohner Marine Band you haven't any idea of the more complex chromatic instrument's potential for expression. Live at the Ballroom is a revelation, and great fun as well.

Vivaldi: The Four Seasons. Holloway, Parrott, Taverner Players.
Let's hear no loose talk about the world not needing another recording of The Four Seasons, because even if that were true (and in the absolute, it probably is) this is not just another recording of The Four Seasons. It is the recording of The Four Seasons — the one that redefines the work and removes it from the realm of pleasant background music. You don't think of Vivaldi as an Impressionist, do you? Or as a Romantic. No: he's forever pigeonholed in our minds as the darling of the granola generation; the safe composer to play while the consciousness-raising group gathers. Well forget that nonsense. Vivaldi, at least in this recording of this piece of music, was anything but the polite, quiche-scarfing scrivener his detractors describe. No siree. This performance of The Four Seasons has muscle; it has depth; it has mystery. It has terror, for crying out loud: remember, a winter storm in Vivaldi's time could have a dramatic effect on the peasant-folk! Andrew Parrott and the Taverner Players have taken the familiar and made it new, but this is not novelty for its own sake. Rather, it's a long-overdue restoration of a glorious original. This recording — which has stunning sonics, by the way — is a must have.

Mahler: Symphony No. 2, "Resurrection." Kathleen Battle, Maureen Forrester, Slatkin, St. Louis Symphony.
Mahler's 2nd Symphony is not a work to be taken lightly. A respectable performance should turn the listener upside down, shake him vigorously, and at the end leave him with weak knees and a slack jaw. It should, in other words, be a highly emotional experience. In the pre-CD era no recording of the work has had that effect on us, regardless of the quality of the performance. The limitations of the pressed vinyl medium simply didn't allow for the total impact. So when Telarc announced the original LP release of this recording we held our editorial breath and waited on tenterhooks for our review copy. We were confident that the recording would be good: the Telarc label pretty much guarantees it. But would it have that extra something that all other pressings lacked? And even if it did, what about the performance? How would Slatkin's reading fare against those by Bruno Walter, Leonard Bernstein (in his second go-round), and even Claudio Abbado (whose unexpectedly wonderful recording came as quite a shock to Mahlerphiles). So when the discs arrived we resisted the temptation to check out the last five minutes, placed the tonearm on the lead-in groove, and sat back.

We were impressed. While we wouldn't go as far as to discard Walter, Bernstein, or Abbado, Slatkin's performance belongs on every Mahlerphile's shelf. The problem was, we were able, at the end of the piece, to get up, turn off the hifi, and go about our business. Everything came together nicely, but the recording didn't leave us physically and emotionally debilitated. It was just another very fine phonograph record. The CD, however, is another story. Nuances that even Telarc's fine LP pressing tended to obscure show up in stark relief thanks to the CD's utter absence of background noise; the slow, majestic crescendi that call for such control on the part of the conductor are reproduced in all of their grandeur. This Telarc CD of Mahler's Second Symphony is what hifi is all about.

Choral Masterpieces. Robert Shaw, Atlanta Symphony & Chorus.
Nothing shows off a hifi system like a really good recording of big choral music. On the best systems you can distinguish the individual voices, yet they still voices blend together to form a wall of sound that makes even Phil Spector's best work seem wimpy. The problem is, most recordings of choral music sound mushy: the stuff is very hard to record. Telarc to the rescue! Choral Masterpieces is a compilation of 15 selections, some familiar (like Handel's "Hallelujah" from Messiah) and some obscure (like the "Sanctus" from Durufle's Requiem). The disc opens with Beethoven's stirring "Hallelujah" from Christ on the Mount of Olives, and ends with a real blockbuster in the form of the "Rex Tremendae" from Berlioz' Requiem. The programming of the disc was done with a superb sense of pace: the true knockout pieces — the ones that leave you breathless — are surrounded by softer, more relaxing selections. You might not think to buy a disc called Choral Masterpieces, thinking that you aren't a fan of this type of music. Suppress that thought and trust us. You're a fan and don't know it yet. Telarc's Choral Masterpieces is itself a masterpiece.

Wagner: Das Rheingold. Flagstad, London, Solti, Vienna Philharmonic.
No matter how impressed we are with the digital medium's potential for providing superior new recordings, there is always the nagging realization that it also presages the eventually loss of some great performances recorded with older technology. The other, more fortunate side of that coin, though, is the ability of the CD to reveal nuances of those same performances that, for technical reasons, never made the transition from master tape to pressed vinyl. Take, for example, the Solti recording of Wagner's Das Rheingold.

For more than three decades (!) it has served as a landmark of the recording art. The cohesiveness of Solti's view, the brilliance of the individual artists (including Kirsten Flagstad and George London), and the production by John Culshaw combine to make this one of the all time great recordings, both from a musical standpoint and for its great sonics. What's more, every advance in playback technology seemed to reveal something new about the recording. Details of texture, nuances of dynamics that the playback technology of 1959 couldn't begin to resolve became apparent as cartridges, amplifiers, and loudspeakers improved, And now, with the digital remastering and transfer to CD, we learn just what was possible in the very earliest days of stereo recording. It's as though Culshaw was able to peer into the future and say "I know it doesn't matter now, but if we get it all on the tape, someday they'll be able to hear what we have in mind."

Now, more than a quarter of a century later, it's clear that all of the effort (an effort, by the way, which is well-documented in Culshaw's book Ring Resounding) was worth it. The importance of this three-CD set goes beyond its considerable value as entertainment: it is a historic document whose success will, we hope, inspire the eventual transfer to the digital medium of other great performances. Your purchase of this set will not only add a great Rheingold to your library. It will also cast a vote for the preservation of a great recorded legacy. It's a worthwhile investment on both counts.

Cantaloube: Chants d`Auvergne, Volume 1. Kiri Te Kanawa, Jeffrey Tate, English Chamber Orchestra.
What Ralph Vaughan-Williams and Percy Grainger were to English folk music, Marie-Joseph Cantaloube de Malaret was to French. Cantaloube transcribed folk songs from all over France, but the five volumes of Songs of Auvergne are his best-known work, and this recording of Volume One serves as a splendid introduction to them. Kiri te Kanawa's creamy voice gives these lovely peasant airs a wonderfully rich sound, while Jeffrey Tate's orchestral accompaniment ebbs and swells with the flow of the melody. It's a first rate performance on all counts, and is well served by the recording. This is a delightful disc.

Holst: Suites 1 & 2; Handel Music for the Royal Fireworks; Bach: Fantasia in G. Frederick Fennell, Cleveland Symphonic Winds.
This was Telarc's first audiophile release and it holds up magnificently on the transfer to CD. Even if you're familiar with the vinyl pressing it's like hearing that final bass drum beat of the Holst "Second Suite" for the first time. Fennell's direction is superb — nobody does a better job on serious wind music — and Telarc perfectly captured the Cleveland Symphonic Winds' lush, organ-like sound. The two Holst Suites, based upon English folksongs, are particularly exciting.

Jongen: Symphonie Concertante; Frank: Fantasie in A; Pastorale. Murray, organ; de Waart, San Francisco Symphony.
You know in the speaker reviews where it says "the bass will satisfy all but the most rabid pipe organ fans"? Well, here's a record for those fans. The Jongen, familiar to aficionados in the Vigil Fox recording, is a minor work musically speaking, but right up there in the majors from a sonic standpoint. That, of course, makes it an ideal candidate for Telarc: while they've gotten into some pretty serious stuff — Bach, Beethoven, and the like — they still have room on the schedule for the sonic blockbusters that even serious music-loving audiophiles like to indulge in from time to time. The Jongen piece is one such blockbuster that you should be familiar with, especially as this recording (the first using the new killer pipe organ in Davies Symphony Hall) will test the mettle of your amp and speakers alike. You think your speakers are "digital ready"? That your amp can really deliver when things get cooking? Maybe. If they can handle this CD, you're in good shape.

Moussorgsky/Ravel: Pictures at an Exhibition. Maazel, Cleveland Orchestra.
When the pressed vinyl version of this performance was released a few years back we were highly impressed with the way Lorin Maazel resisted the urge to "milk" the piece and conduct it purely as a show-stopper. Ravel's orchestration of Moussorgsky's piano score is colorful enough to distract both conductor and listener from the structure of the piece, but it has more substance than is at first apparent. No one will argue that Pictures at an Exhibition is a profound piece of music, but neither is it an empty orchestral showpiece. The truth of this is borne out by Maazel's performance: rather than treat each section independently, he seems to have a sense of the whole, and this cohesion makes "Pictures" work both as a display piece and a serious piece of music. The finale, in particular, is beautifully handled: Maazel balances pomp and dignity with consummate skill, and never allows the music to get out of control. From a sonic standpoint, "Pictures" has tremendous dynamics, and a full palette of orchestral color, both of which are captured with Telarc's usual skill on this very welcome CD.

Prokofiev: Romeo & Juliet; excerpts. Levi, Cleveland Orchestra.
There are lots of ways to begin a selection of excerpts from Romeo & Juliet and one of them is to sneak up behind the audience and yell "boo". This is Yoel Levi's approach, beginning as he does with "Montagues and Capulets." Once you've picked yourself up off the floor, you'll find that the program progresses quite nicely, and that while the eleven chosen excerpts don't necessarily recreate the ballet, they make for good listening. Prokofiev was a great craftsman, and "Romeo" is one of his masterpieces. This recording is a bit more clinical than some of Telarc's other efforts, and lacks some warmth, but is no less satisfying; just different. Recommended.

Schubert: Winterreise. Prey, Bianconi.
Winterreise is one of the great song cycles, by one of the great song writers of all time, and Hermann Prey's rich baritone is very well suited to its demands. Schubert's skill at expressing the mood of the text musically makes it possible to appreciate Winterreise even without benefit of a translation, especially when the performance is as true to the score as this one is. If you're not the sort who's likely to rush out and buy this CD because it was the first Winterreise in the digital format, you should rush out and buy it because it is a fine, well-recording performance.

Stravinsky: The Rite of Spring. Maazel, Cleveland Orchestra.
This performance, available for some time on conventional LP, has already received sufficient applause: suffice it to say that we completely agree with all of the praise that's been heaped upon it. What's astonishing, though, is how much better the CD is than the already superb pressed vinyl version. The Rite of Spring can seem, at first, to be a very elemental piece of music, dependent entirely upon rhythmic drive for its success. But beneath that primitive element (which, admittedly, is of extreme importance) are details of orchestral texture that — even if not apparent at the surface — are crucial to the overall impact of a performance. Hearing The Rite of Spring is (or, at least, should be) an emotional experience in addition to an aural one, but for that to happen it must be more than just a lot of noise. That is why, at least for this reviewer, the work has been far more satisfying in live performances — even second-rate live performances — than on disc. No more: this Telarc CD fulfills the promise of the digital medium by capturing all of the subtleties of this highly complex work and revealing the individual layers that make up its thick texture. If you're a fan of The Rite of Spring, this recording alone makes buying a CD player worthwhile.

The Tango Project.
It's been pointed out to us that anytime you see a Nonesuch recording with a zippy jacket illustration, the disc is almost certain to be equally exciting. This correlation is certainly true in the case of The Tango Project (the success of which has already inspired, Hollywood-style, a sequel). William Schimmel's accordion (accordion!), Michael Sahl's piano, and Stan Kurtis' violin take familiar tunes like "La Cumparsita" and "Jalousie" along with others that you've probably not heard yet, and make you want to dance. These are sensuous, sinewy performances, evoking a time when the tango was considered, if not actually lewd, then highly suggestive. The recording is superb: it places the three instrumentalists right in your living room (where they can watch you do whatever you do when listening to a properly suggestive tango).

Weber: Der Freischutz. Hauschild, Dresden State Opera.
One of the casualties of the World War II destruction in Dresden was the Semper Opera House, completed in 1878 and considered one of the best in Europe. After the war, Dresden found itself part of the Eastern sector, and the reconstruction of opera houses was not a high priority. It took thirty years for reconstruction to begin, but once begun it was decided that the hall be fully restored to its previous, decadent splendor. And a decade later, on the fortieth anniversary of its destruction, the Semper Opera House reopened with a performance of the last opera to be performed there before the bombing: Weber's Der Freischutz. By all accounts, it was a truly gala event, and fortunately for us Denon was there to record it.

Denon was particularly concerned that the live character of the performance be retained in the recording. The company's engineers devoted a great deal of attention to the problem of providing the same front-to-rear ambience that was heard in the hall (and which is missing in most recordings). They succeeded; this is one of the most convincing recreations of a live performance by large forces we can recall. The performances, while not up to the highest Western standards, are professional, and on balance we can recommend this set on both historic and musical terms.