THOMAS QUASTHOFF
‘The Jazz Album’

Thomas Quasthoff, the German bass-baritone, loves American culture, certainly American music, and he speaks very idiomatic English — American English. He is a bright and colorful guy, possessing an outsize personality, to say the least. After I observed him in a master class last year, I said that he should have his own talk show here — late-night, probably, so as to be as freewheeling as possible.

On March 7, Mr. Quasthoff will give a concert in Carnegie Hall called “An American Songbook.” In the meantime, you can check out his new CD from Deutsche Grammophon: “The Jazz Album.” Like Renée Fleming and a few others, Mr. Quasthoff sang in nightclubs while a student — and he is unwilling to give it up. You may remember that, almost 50 years ago, the soprano Eileen Farrell made an album called “I Gotta Right to Sing the Blues.” Mr. Quasthoff has that same right, and he exercises it well.

As he himself says — you can read this in the liner notes — “Whenever I sing jazz, it sounds like jazz, not like classical music in the guise of jazz.” Now, that’s true, even if he should leave it to others to say. But I must remark that, at the beginning of “My Funny Valentine,” he sounds rather like Hans Hotter. And, whether he’s singing Bach or Rodgers, he demonstrates an extraordinary technique.

I always say, there’s nothing like good singing in good music — no matter what the repertoire.

Mr. Quasthoff does 12 songs, some of them quite familiar, like “My Funny Valentine,” and some of them much less so. I was particular taken with “Secret Love,” by Sammy Fain and Paul-Francis Webster, a hit from 1953. Mr. Quasthoff is backed up by a variety of musicians, the most prominent of them being Till Brönner, a trumpeter.

The more I listened to this album, the more I liked it, which is a very good sign. Some tracks will appeal to you more than others, but when isn’t that the case? Mr. Quasthoff should provide a hot, or at least musically intelligent, night next week at Carnegie.

CONCERTO KÖLN
‘Il divino Boemo’

Who was “il divino Boemo,” or “the divine Bohemian”? He was Josef Myslivecek, born in 1737, heir to a mill in Prague. But milling wasn’t for him, and his musical gift would not be denied. He set off for Italy, where he achieved great success as an opera composer. He also cut a swath through society, especially its women.

In due course, he met the Mozarts, father and son — or rather, the Mozarts met him. And they admired him. Wolfi paid tribute to Myslivecek in the song “Ridente la calma,” which is adapted from a Myslivecek aria. The Bohemian died in miserable condition at the age of 43. In 1912, a Czech composer named Stanislav Suda wrote an opera about him: “Il divino Boemo.”

We learn the above from Dorothea Schröder’s excellent essay for a new CD, from Archiv Produktion. Like Suda’s forgotten opera, the CD is titled “Il divino Boemo,” and it gives us about an hour of instrumental musical by Myslivecek. It is striking music, too: prolific in melody, imaginative in rhythm, engaging in every possible way. Myslivecek is no less than a find.

And the musicians on this disc play this music extremely well. They are Concerto Köln, led by Werner Ehrhardt (also first violinist). The group is crisp, peppy, and neat, in the manner of other period bands. But they are also musical, unafraid of beauty, charm, and delight.

Again, a find.

CLARA HASKIL
Philips Recordings, 1951-1960

Clara Haskil was known as a pianist’s pianist, one whom colleagues learned from and outright revered. Born in Bucharest in 1895, to Sephardic Jewish parents, she did not have a smooth life: She was often beset by illness, and then there was her flight from Nazi-occupied Paris in 1942. She died in 1960, after falling down the stairs at a railway station.

Haskil was a poetic, pure, tasteful pianist, but make no mistake: She also had a monster technique, capable of playing anything. She had the fingers, mind, and soul of a complete pianist.

Philips has released a box set of seven CDs, giving us recordings that Haskil made in the last decade of her life. There is a wide variety in this set: Scarlatti sonatas, in which she has always been considered unsurpassed. Mozart, Beethoven, Schumann, and Chopin. She brought Classical values to Romantic music, making her Romantic playing all the more convincing and durable.

We also have music from her own day, including Falla’s “Nights in the Gardens of Spain.” Talk about Classical values: Haskil plays this piece with her usual purity and integrity. But it has plenty of mystery and allure, rest assured.

Anyone in search of honest, knowing, and inspired playing would do well to acquire these discs.