A Wealth of Music at Budget Prices

This short list of indispensable recordings, which just happen to be available at bargain prices, is headed by a not-so-small wonder: a brand-new release (not a reissue) of one of the great problem compositions of the chamber repertory, a masterpiece whose full glory seems always to be realized only in the listener’s imagination: Brahms’ G-major String Quintet, Opus 111.

Its daunting challenges of balance (the composer’s dynamic markings are notoriously skimpy where the performers most need guidance) and sonority (dark, quasi-orchestral) are met head-on, and conquered, by a young Paris-based ensemble prosaically named the Ludwig Quartet--after Ludwig van?--new to this listener, with veteran violist Bruno Pasquier an able fifth (Naxos 553635). Their boldness is matched by a subtlety of inflection in the quieter passages and a lyric intensity elsewhere that keeps the melodies soaring without sacrificing rhythmic thrust.

The most sensitive and dramatic edition of this grand work, live or recorded, is presented in fittingly rich, clarifying sonics and at the usual Naxos spare-change price of 6 bucks, tops.

The coupling is Brahms’ other String Quintet, in F, Opus 88, a sunnier, less problematic work that benefits equally from the dedication and stylistic savvy of Ludwig and friend.

EMI’s cutesy named “double fforte” is a new line of twofers--a pair of discs for the price of one full-priced CD--repackaging treasures from the ‘60s and ‘70s in handsomely remastered sound.

Standouts among the first batch of releases include the last three symphonies of Dvorak (68628) in lyrically expansive yet mobile readings by Carlo Maria Giulini. He leads the London Philharmonic in Nos. 7 and 8, and the Philharmonia in the “New World” (No. 9), with substantial encores, with the same composer’s “Carnaval” Overture and “Scherzo capriccioso” as part of the bargain.

Consider too, from the same source, a priceless collection of some of mezzo Janet Baker’s finest recorded work, with orchestras conducted by Andre Previn and Sir John Barbirolli (68667). On display is her cool, uniquely suggestive way with the sexy music and texts of Ravel’s “Sheherazade,” Chausson’s “Poeme de l’amour et de la mer” and songs of Duparc. Also included: piano-accompanied (by Daniel Barenboim and Previn) songs of Schumann, his “Frauenliebe und Leben” and Brahms’ “Four Serious Songs” as well as four of his duets in regal partnership with baritone Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau.

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No doubt there will be those who are sorely disappointed that they’re not getting those Three in RCA’s “Legendary Three Tenors” (Gold Seal 68534).

RCA’s are, rather, gentlemen who individually made our grandparents and great-grandparents swoon--Enrico Caruso, John McCormack and Beniamino Gigli. They are heard here in a batch of opera’s greatest hits and some old-time pops favorites, among the latter “Because,” “Santa Lucia” and “When You and I Were Young, Maggie.”

The originals--the older the source, the scratchier-sounding--date from between 1904 (Caruso singing Leoncavallo’s “Mattinata” with the composer at the piano) and 1950 (an ill-advised “Nessun dorma” from an over-the-hill Gigli).

But for historically minded vocal buffs, there are unlikely to be greater thrills than what’s offered here: Gigli’s sublimely Italianate (sobs and all) “Una furtiva lagrima” and “Cielo e mar”; McCormack’s honeyed “Il mio tesoro,” “Di miei bollenti spiriti” and “Moonlight and Roses”; and Caruso’s “La donna e mobile.” Three very different voices, each exemplifying the best of a distant golden age, when tenors were already singing for big bucks and big audiences, but only as many of the latter as could be accommodated in an opera house or concert hall.

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For something completely different, utterly lacking in international glamour, pick up the two-disc Sony “Essential Classics” package (62 406) containing the major orchestral works of Borodin.

The three symphonies as well as the overture and “Polovstian Dances” from “Prince Igor” are performed by a not inappropriately (or excessively) rough Toronto Symphony under the energetic direction of Andrew Davis, joined in the dances by a spirited, uncredited women’s chorus. There’s a neat bonus, too, in the form of Borodin’s grandly evocative “In the Steppes of Central Asia,” from Leonard Bernstein and the New York Philharmonic.