If you've seen the Leonard Bernstein biopic "Maestro", you've seen and heard The Orchestra Now, the exceptional ensemble that appears in the movie's Tanglewood Music Festival scene. The Orchestra Now (TON), a New York-based graduate-level training orchestra comprised of the most vibrant young musicians from around the globe, was founded by conductor, educator and music historian Leon Botstein, whose insatiable curiosity has resulted in rescuing countless musical works from oblivion. Their first recording for AVIE, "The Lost Generation", brings together three German-speaking composers who were contemporaries of Arnold Schoenberg and Alban Berg, but whose music became supressed by historical events of the 20th century.

Ferdinand Ries may once have been celebrated as ‘one of the finest piano-performers of the present day’ (the 1820s), but he is now remembered chiefly for his association with Beethoven. Yet the music here is never slavishly imitative: Piers Lane makes a persuasive case for rescuing these works from the pages of musical history.

Two very different takes on the romantic piano concerto, both equally successful. The Bliss—written in 1939 for the World’s Fair in New York—is extrovert, exuberant and virtuosic, the Rubbra a profound reflection on, and continuation of, the English pastoral tradition.

During his lifetime Odysseus was one of Bruch’s most frequently performed and highly regarded works: the influential English critic J. A. Fuller-Maitland thought it his masterpiece, and Brahms admired it greatly. It was a very successful performance of Odysseus in Liverpool in 1877 that led three years later to Bruch’s appointment as Director of the Philharmonic Society there. It is an oratorio, not an opera (subtitled Scenes from the Odyssey), and one reason for its decline into obscurity may be that for such a subject it is often undramatic, in word-setting (sometimes rather square and inexpressive) and in its choice of episodes: Odysseus’s return to Ithaca, and the jubilation over his rout of the suitors are portrayed, but not Penelope’s recognition of him nor the fight itself. There is no narrator, and there are very few dramatic links between the 12 self-contained sections.

The Concert Overture is a hugely gifted young composer's homage to Richard Strauss, and fully worthy of its model in impetuousness, rich sonority and close-woven polyphony. The Second Symphony is no less rich but more disciplined, with Reger's influence added to (and modifying) that of Strauss, and with Szymanowski's own high colouring, sinuous melody and tonal adventurousness now in their first maturity. The Infatuated Muezzin songs are a high point of his middle period, Debussian harmony and florid orientalising arabesques fusing to an aching voluptuousness, colour now applied with the refinement of a miniaturist.

Botstein clearly feels great conviction for this music and this comes across both in performance and in the booklet text, part of which he contributed. These are eloquent performances directed by a man who clearly sees Hartmann as a natural partner to Shostakovich.

In terms of a First symphony being the establishment of a recognizable voice of a respective country, Ernst Von Dohnanyi (1877-1960) was an Hungarian equivalent to England's Sir Edward Elgar. Dohnanyi, however, was a little-known, overshadowed force of 20th Century Hungarian music, largely due to the popularities of both Bela Bartok & Zoltan Kodaly. His works, especially his two symphonies, therefore continue to suffer from obscurity. But, here comes the rescue, at least in part. Leon Botstein & the London Philharmonic brings the First symphony from the coldness of obscurity with this excellent, probing Telarc recording. It's rival Chandos recording, released in March of 1999, features Mathias Bamert & the BBC Philharmonic.

This flamingly multicolored, unashamedly grand-scaled symphony receives a performance here so sonically beautiful that it's practically visible. The work is programmatic and tells of the heroic deeds of a medieval knight-strongman, (translated as) "Il 'ya from the town of Murom." Given the orchestration–quadruple woodwinds, four trumpets, eight horns, four trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion, two harps, celeste, and strings–he comes across as a combination of Superman, Batman, Robin Hood, and Wagner's Siegfried. Leon Botstein brings out great warmth in the London Symphony's string section, the flute bird-curlicues in the second movement are luscious, and, in general, his leadership has nice forward propulsion in a work that can easily sound bloated. If this sort of huge, Romantic palette is your cup of tea–and it is sort of irresistible–then look no further. This realization is ravishing, and Telarc's sound is an audiophile's dream.

This new studio recording contains three works for piano and orchestra that virtuoso pianist Orion Weiss and conductor Leon Botstein first performed in concert at the Bard Music Festival. Together, the three works span almost a century of musical Romanticism and are as different from one another as the generations they represent. In each piece, the virtuoso genre becomes a means by which the composer responds to a specific source of inspiration – in the first case (Korngold), a performer and family friend who had suffered a horrendous tragedy, in the second (Rimsky-Korsakov), a venerated old master, and in the third (Chopin) a melody from a beloved opera.

Two very different takes on the romantic piano concerto, both equally successful. The Bliss – written in 1939 for the World’s Fair in New York – is extrovert, exuberant and virtuosic, the Rubbra a profound reflection on, and continuation of, the English pastoral tradition.