We love Reger. There's something about composers who bridge the gap between eras - with one foot in familiarity, and one reaching out in exploration - that creates delicious surprises.  In Reger's case, as Deutsche Grammophon describes him: "The counterpoint of Bach meets the harmonies of Schoenberg." 

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Surrounded by, and immersed in music from an early age during a time of widespread socioeconomic and cultural changes in Europe, Reger reflected this dissonance in complex textures, and was largely dismissed by modernist colleagues, who saw his blend of romantic expressiveness and neoclassical formalism as idiosyncratic. Time has softened this attitude, as scholars and enlightened consumers have come to recognize the inventiveness, emotional depth, and sometimes wry humour in his work.

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Max's "better to burn out than fade away" attitude - he was exceedingly prolific, clinically depressed, and staggeringly overindulgent - caught up with him, and he died, performing on the road, at just 43.

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In Dulci Jubilo

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Typical of Reger, this arrangement of a very old, very well-known melody has, as one observer put it: "some ravishingly altered harmonies." It's one of those pieces that sounds simple in performance, but is remarkably hard to sing. The six-part score - as you can see - is a maze of chromaticisms, intricate polyphonies, and unusual modulations, with the altos and tenors as uncommon bedfellows on the second staff, often crossing over and under one another. The result, however, is an absolute delight.

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Schlaf, mein Kindelein

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Trust Reger, amidst all his struggles and cynicism, to produce this sweet, simple, and enchanting arrangement of a beloved German lullaby.  

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