American Record Guide (May/June 2002) 

Guild deserves high marks for programming. Other record companies have coupled the Dvorak with Tchaikovsky's Rococo Variations, Elgar's concerto, or (rather inappropriately) Shostakovich's First. Guild gives us the rare treat of also hearing the work that was Dvorak's inspiration. And, although confusingly identified by its Czech name, Klid, on the jewel box, the familiar Silent Woods could be fairly called one of Dvorak's practice exercises for his masterpiece (along with the early cello concerto from 1865).

When Dvorak arrived in New York in the fall of 1892 to take over his post as director of the National Conservatory, the newly-founded institution's cello instructor, Victor Herbert, was one of its star faculty members. Herbert was born in Ireland, raised in England and Germany, and musically educated in the latter country. He had already made a name for himself as a cello soloist and had settled in New York in 1886, when he and his opera-singer wife joined the Metropolitan Opera Company. Herbert was about to embark on his career as an operetta composer, but despite his cosmopolitan background, he shared a Central European musical foundation with Dvorak.

The album notes tell us that Herbert was inspired by Dvorak's New World Symphony not only to write his Cello Concerto 2 but to echo the older master in some of its rhetorical and stylistic gestures. The concerto is in E minor, same key as the New World, but it strikes me as owing its greatest stylistic debt to Schumann's concerto---three movements without pause, a similar 22-minute length, and even a similar busy-ness (sometimes denseness) of orchestration. Benjamin Folkman, Guild's annotator, sensibly resists hype and is honest enough to admit that it's a well-crafted, competent work, but hardly on the same inspired plane as Dvorak's. Nevertheless, we have an example of a lesser composer drawing inspiration from a great one and, in turn, inspiring his mentor.

Herbert's concerto was premiered on 9 March 1894 by the New York Philharmonic under Anton Seidl, with the composer as soloist. It opens grandly and dramatically with a brief orchestral exclamation, followed by an impassioned cello flourish before we launch into the non-stop flow of the intense first movement. II is a gentle, somewhat pallid song, followed by a finale that veers toward the Herbert of operetta fame.

Dvorak, who (Folkman reports) had considered the cello unsuited to the solo role in a full-length concerto, was so impressed by Herbert's score (and perhaps his playing as well) that he had a change of heart and set about writing his own concerto. His work became a cornerstone of the repertory; Herbert's fell into obscurity and has been performed and recorded but rarely.

Mr. Kreger brings to all three works a broad, rich, singing yet focused tone that embodies just about everything you could ask for in this repertoire. He knows where the music should go, and he transports us there in a most enjoyable ride on the swells of his glorious tone. He's not in a hurry, but he doesn't let the solo line meander or become disjointed either. With so much beautiful solo work to savor, haste is hardly an attractive prospect. He gives the Dvorak a broad, lyrical, long-lined performance, but bravura passages sizzle off his bow with assurance and panache.

There is still much to enjoy in Guild's offering. I recommend it to anybody who wants to become acquainted with a mature, rarely heard late-romantic concerto and a Dvorak with gorgeous solo work.

-- Hansen

Fanfare (March/April 2002) 

The Concerto for Cello and Orchestra by Antonin Dvorak is not only the greatest concerto for its solo instrument, but one of the greatest concertos for any instrument. In the era of the compact disc, the more modest concerto by Victor Herbert makes a historically and aesthetically satisfying companion, having been composed and performed by Herbert when he and Dvorak were friends and colleagues in New York City. The Dvorak, averaging around 40 minutes in performance, offers memorable melodies, ingenious scoring, an unconventional but effective formal scheme, and an extended, heart-rending coda unlike anything else in the literature. From its opening orchestral tutti in B Minor to its final dying melody in the cello, it alternately suggests a profound tragedy or flies into rapturous songs-without-words. There is a grand solo part, yet much of the time the cello is one of several equal voices, engaged in exquisite duets with clarinet, oboe, or violin. Victor Herbert's Concerto in E Minor, is altogether more modest. Yet, within its more limited scope--22 to 24 minutes--it has not merely charm but its own sort of perfection. Herbert was an expert cellist, composer, and conductor before achieving fame and fortune in musical theater. His concerto is not only written gracefully for the instrument, but beautifully scored for the orchestra as well. Its graceful melodies develop, evolve, and combine to provide a musical argument worthy of the greatest masters. In any sort of decent performance the piece is a joy to hear, except, of course, for those grouchy people who think any classical music with a tune you can hum is beneath their notice.

Recording this Dvorak Concerto, which has been recorded by virtually all the great cellists of the 20th century--Feuermann, Casals, Cassado, Rose, Tortelier, Fournier, Rostropovich, Du Pre, Schiff, and Ma, among others, come to mind--is quite a challenge. The veteran American cellist James Kreger meets it handsomely. His highly disciplined cello playing is uniformly rich in sound, pure in intonation, and convincing in phrasing. The Korean conductor Djong Victorin Yu leads the celebrated Philharmonia Orchestra of London in a luxurious-sounding accompaniment in perfect accord with the soloist's interpretation. The sound is of the rich, resonant kind, suggesting a full-sized symphony orchestra in a large hall.

There have been far fewer recordings of Victor Herbert's Concerto, though those who play it seem to relish the experience. My first--and excellent--recording of it may still be available in a Mercury CD reissue: Georges Miquelle, with Howard Hanson and the Eastman-Rochester Symphony. But Yo-Yo Ma, Kurt Masur, and the New York Philharmonic provide the head-on competition for Kreger, Yu, and the Philharmonia, having coupled the Dvorak and Herbert Cello Concertos on a Sony CD: SK67 173. Which is better? Kreger's Guild release adds the lovely filler, 'Silent Woods', and the finer notes (though Sony's are excellent). Both have great sound, but of quite different types: The Sony is close-in, allowing those who appreciate hearing each inner voice distinctly the opportunity to do so. Guild's sound is richer, fuller, and smoother. Guild also has the wider dynamic range: the orchestral ‘fortissimos' are awesome. Ma and Masur are of course totally at home with the music, and play it with skill and zest. Kreger and Yu are perhaps a tad more measured--more classical if you will--in their approach, though both recordings capture the essences of the two concertos very well. Happily, I now own them both, and need not choose.

-- Robert McColley

International Record Review (Great Britain, April 2002) 

Victor Herbert (1859-1924) - best known and loved for his Babes in Toyland, Naughty Marietta and other attractive operas - was at heart a virtuoso cellist. His Cello Concerto in E minor is a worthy contribution to the Romantic repertoire for his instrument: beautifully orchestrated and boasting good ideas (if without the unforgettable melodies and sheer genius of the Dvorak). In a way, Herbert's duality mirrors that of the renowned and beloved Fritz Kreisler whose violinistic wizardry likewise co-existed with his own Apple Blossoms.

Herbert's Cello Concerto received its world premiere in New York at precisely the time (March 9th and 10th, 1894) that Dvorak was serving as director of Jeanette Thurber's National Conservatory. Moreover, the great Czech composer was in the audience to hear his younger colleague's new work (Anton Seidl led the New York Philharmonic); he was sufficiently impressed and motivated to pick up the gauntlet. The juxtaposition of Dvorak with Herbert is an inspired one.

Collectors who have been enjoying Yo-Yo Ma's readings for several years should note that the newly released Guild disc actually pre-dates the Sony by a couple of years. The American virtuoso James Kreger - like Ma, a Leonard Rose pupil - plays as beautifully as his more famous counterpart, but presumably was left in limbo until his recording could find an outlet for public release.

Comparison with Ma is by no means to Kreger's disadvantage. The latter, whose chamber music playing has always touched me, draws a lithe sound from his instrument, rejoicing in a long, sinewy, singing line. His bowing is creamy smooth, his intonation squarely on target, and his phrasing unfailingly lyrical and intelligent. The Allegro of the first movement of the Dvorak Cello concerto might strike some as a trifle leisurely and laidback, but Yu and his Philharmonia Orchestra nevertheless project a convincing pulse and create a convincing interpretative alternative to the more conventionally paced framework favoured by Ma and Masur. And so it goes with the balance of the Dvorak and the Herbert: the Ma/Masur treatments are perhaps slightly bigger, tougher and more dynamic, but both approaches are superb and musically satisfying.

The Guild recording, as luminously reproduced as the Sony, also offers a lovely account of 'Silent Woods' as a bonus. Kreger's and Yu's heartfelt performance compares favourably with one of my particular favourites, the exquisite 1989 CBC account by the Canadian Shauna Rolston, made with the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra under Uri Mayer, when she was barely 20 years old. Rolston is a mite more closely miked and, as a result, seems a trifle more opulent and sonorous (and the Edmonton Symphony's horn section could rival the excellent Philharmonia's and any other world-class orchestra's horns). Rolston's work is coupled with Oscar Morawetz's Memorial to Martin Luther King, Bruch's Kol Nidrei, Fauré's Elégie, and Bliss's Cello Concerto.

All three of these contenders are enthusiastically recommended. We are fortunate in having such splendid cellists on tap.

-- Harris Goldsmith

Gramophone (April 2002) 

A fine, well-conceived coupling...

Victor Herbert's appealing, expertly written concerto probably inspired Dvorak to write his masterpiece in the form. The two works have shared a disc before, splendidly played by Yo-Yo Ma. The new CD has a bonus: Silent Woods, originally a piano duet, then a cello and piano piece, and heard here in the beautiful orchestral arrangement that Dvorak made in 1893. The dark, velvety sonority of the opening is particularly evocative..

Another advantage is the exceptionally well-balanced, spacious orchestral sound---the grand, luminosity of the full orchestral passages in the Dvorak Concerto is most impressive. Kreger is a fine cellist; his tone clear,“ unforced and well projected, the singing melodies played with lovely legato phrasing, the brilliant passages clear and incisive. There are many magically beautiful moments, especially in the slow movements of both concertos... fine style and interpretive insights...

-- Duncan Druce

Newhouse News Service (June 2002) 

New Compact Disc Release by Cellist James Kreger is a Winner!

James Kreger, mastersinger of the cello, has a glorious new GUILD compact disc recording of the music of Antonin Dvorak and Victor Herbert.

The greatest of romantic cello scores is the Opus 104 Concerto for Cello and Orchestra in B minor by Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904). Kreger's striking new recording is preceded on the splendid new CD by one of the Czech master's most exquisite meditative gems, "Klid," Silent Woods.

The Dvorak pieces are coupled with the beautiful Opus 30 Second Concerto for Cello and Orchestra in E minor by the popular Irish/American cellist/composer, Victor Herbert (1859-1924).

James Kreger's luminous performances are greatly enhanced by the rich support of London's Philharmonia Orchestra led by Korean-born, American-trained composer/conductor Djong Victorin Yu.

The recording is technically magnificent and warm. A special pleasure may be found in the fine notes by Benjamin Folkman, printed in welcome readable size print in English, German and French.

From his early prize-winning era in the 1970s, James Kreger has always been a cellist to watch. Today, as a Juilliard School faculty member who once studied under Harvey Shapiro and the treasured Leonard Rose, Kreger is a master who stands at the very pinnacle of the world of music in an era of remarkably great cellists.

The songful, expressive quality of the Kreger sound and musicianship are heard instantly in the opening measures of the Dvorak "Silent Woods," and they continue to shine - balanced by brilliant virtuosity - in both of the grand concerti.

Folkman is a tad condescending concerning the Herbert concerto, stating that "Herbert's adroitness is on a far lower artistic plane than Dvorak's mastery," describing the work as "a period piece of undeniable charm."

Since nothing in the cello repertory surpasses the glorious Dvorak concerto, it isn't possible to make any dramatic claims for the Herbert, but, especially in the big, expressive lyrical and inspired performance by Kreger, Maestro Yu and the Philharmonia, the most popular American work for the cello shines with vibrant excitement.

The new GUILD recording displays the artistry of James Kreger in a handsome showcase rich in the player's admired songful expressivity, and adds new dimensions to his list of outstanding accomplishments.

GUILD is distributed in America by Albany Music Distributors. The Albany phone is 518/436-8814. FAX: 518/436-0643. The recording may also be ordered on-line at www.sri-canada.com.

Larger record shops should have the GUILD Kreger/Dvorak-Herbert CD in stock. It is more than worth tracing down. Hours of great listening pleasure are assured.

--Byron Belt

Washington Post (January 13, 2002) 

A Strong Showing: Unsung Americans Get Their Due

Although the latest recording from the cellist James Kreger includes a fine, soulful performance of Dvorak's Cello Concerto in B Minor--probably the best-known such work in the repertory--it also contains a genuine rarity, Victor Herbert's Cello Concerto No. 2 in E Minor. Herbert is remembered mostly for his operettas ("Naughty Marietta," "The Red Mill" and especially "Babes in Toyland"), but he was also a celebrated cellist, and he wrote well and idiomatically for the instrument.

The concerto is an ingratiating work, replete with good tunes and a curious lilting quality that is apparent even in its most proclamatory passages.

It is played with uncommon elegance by Kreger, while conductor Djong Victorin Yu elicits eager, earnest playing from the Philharmonia Orchestra.

The album is available on the Guild label--a name that might have pleased Herbert, who was a fiercely articulate advocate of copyright protection for composers and a founding member of his own "guild," the redoubtable American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers.

-- Tim Page

Compact Disc Classics (Italy, December/January 2002) - view in original language

It would be too simplistic to explain the strongly lyrical and visceral spirit of the two Dvorak works performed on this most beautiful Guild CD with a mere mention of the composer's "Slavic soul" and his nostalgia for his far-away homeland (the Concerto was composed in February 1895, slightly more than two months before Dvorak left New York, to which he would never return). Indeed, the ample expressive palette of these scores encompasses some of the most important poetic elements of late Romanticism, which would find their ideal fulfillment and most effective synthesis in the works of Johannes Brahms.
Although the discographic catalogue scarcely suffers any dearth of superbly authoritative alternatives in this repertory, the interpretation of James Kreger, an American cellist with a distinct personality, ranks at the very top, revealing an artist on whom we must keep a close eye. The most immediately striking characteristic of his style is his extraordinary musical feeling, a spontaneous quality that justifies daring comparison with the most illustrious soloists. Under his knowledgeable fingers, Klid's deep longing becomes pure poetry with a subtle but profound melancholy that reflects the existential torment of the artist and the diffuse restlessness of an entire people. On the other hand, the two concertos by Dvorak and Victor Herbert reveal the magical sound of Kreger's cello, an expression perhaps abused in too many disc reviews but that I believe faithfully reflects the musical universe of this American soloist. Soft and vigorous, round and tenuous, affirmative and mournful, Kreger's instrument provides us with a fascinating, indeed irresistible experience, accompanied by a Philharmonia Orchestra skillfully prompted to top form by its excellent conductor, Djong Victorin Yu. After Kreger's superb CD dedicated to Mendelssohn, this record is another extraordinary triumph. Highly recommended.

Technical comments: detailed and very up-front recording. Especially attractive is the definition of the cello's mid-bass register, which further aids in giving full value to the soloist's truly great performance.

-- Giovanni Tasso
Translation by Eugenio Lari

Record Geijutsu (Japan, March 2002) - view in original language

The Herbert is "a treasurable recording. Mr. Kreger and Mr. Yu are both proactive" in their approach to this piece, "expecially the second movement, which has ravishing instrumental coloration. The sound of the cello in cantabile [portions] is as beautiful as a dream," and one can almost hear the instrument "weeping." In the finale, the crescendo toward the climax "is truly wonderful."

Répertoire (France, May 2002)

There are two ways of interpreting Dvorak's Concerto for cello. The first, inscribed within the text itself, is driven by a forward thrust, an élan, a search for another dimension. The second, the more traditional way, is at best nostalgic, at worst, schmaltzy or grandiloquent. The first has found its highest incarnation in Starker and Dorati in their legendary rendition on Mercury (10 in Répertoire). The second is Rostropovich's private domain. The more he recorded this work, the more he cultivated the rustlings, the impalpable nuances, wearing his great heart on his broad hand. As this interpretation was performed by the figurehead of the cello (Rostropovich), everyone or almost everyone followed suit. (One should mention here the great version performed by Franz Helmerson and Neeme Järvi who, in fact, turned their backs on that tradition.) It is no surprise that the excellent cellist James Kreger, noted for his benchmark interpretation of the Mendelssohn Cello Sonatas (Discover), has joined this lengthy cohort. What we have, then, is a vision that reflects a kind of "mal être" (spleen) of Dvorak in New York---a Dvorak almost tearful over his fate as an immigrant. Even though I am not personally a fan of this kind of vision, I acknowledge the fact that Kreger carries it off with elegance, tact, and bravura. The lines are clean, the overall arch is clear.

-- Christophe Huss
Translation by Edwin Gerard

Fono Forum (Germany, June 2002) - view in original language

Superb Nuance

This rendition of Dvorak's Cello Concerto and the miniature "Waldesruhe" is a praiseworthy addition to an already impressive list of identical recorded couplings. The slow basic tempos testify to an interpretive concept whose power stems from a wealth of exquisite detail that never descends to the episodic. Technically the performance cannot be faulted, although the soloist's gestures lack flamboyance. Despite this, there is an arresting beauty in his subtle gradation of phrases and delicately executed ritardandi. Kreger's tone is powerful and warm, with a palette of dark colors exceptionally well suited to the introverted spirit of the Dvorak pieces.

It was Victor Herbert (1859 - 1924) who, with his Second Cello Concerto (premiered 1894), presumably prompted Dvorak to produce his Opus 104. Herbert structured this comical, energetic but stylistically inconsistent work—whose thematic substance curiously combines circus-music with an anticipation of the horror-film idiom—as had his predecessors Schumann (Op. 129), Volkmann (Op. 33) and Saint-Saëns (Op. 33), combining three movements in one. Kreger is even more perfectly attuned to this work's special qualities than in the Dvorak.

An outstanding recording technique captures the scrupulous orchestral reading with surprising clarity of detail (for example, the brasses in the slow movement of Opus 104). The CD comes with detailed booklet notes.

(Recommended)

Interpretation: Sound:

-- Lars Franke
Translation by Benjamin Folkman