I’ve been following the recordings of French pianist, Jean-Efflam Bavouzet with great
interest over the last few years. His
complete Ravel and Debussy sets were revelatory – and award winning too. I also enjoyed the treat of him performing
the Ravel Piano Concerto in G major with the Philharmonia Orchestra in the
Brighton Festival this year. But he’s
showed beyond a shadow of a doubt that French pianist doesn’t just mean French
repertoire. Regular readers will know
that he is part way through two major cycles of Haydn and Beethoven Sonatas,
and the Haydn cycle in particular is proving to be a landmark set. So it will come as no great surprise that his
latest set of the five Prokofiev Piano
Concertos, with Gianandrea Noseda
and the BBC Philharmonic, is also a
real gem. The Concertos were written by
Prokofiev to be performed by himself, apart from the Fourth, for left hand
only, which he composed for Paul Wittgenstein.
Wittgenstein rejected the work and it was not performed until after
Prokofiev’s death. The five works amply
demonstrate the changes in Prokofiev’s style, from youthful excitement, through
neo-classicism, to his weightier, late ‘Soviet’ style. The Piano Concerto No. 1, Op. 10 is the shortest work, at just over fifteen minutes, but Prokofiev
packs energy and spark into its three short sections. The Piano Concerto No. 2, Op. 16 in contrast is the longest and is a mammoth challenge, with a
notoriously difficult cadenza in the first movement, which Bavouzet makes sound
effortless. After a whirlwind Scherzo,
the Intermezzo follows with its dark and disturbingly relentless procession,
and Bavouzet and the BBC Philharmonic, relish this. The Piano Concerto No. 3, Op. 26 is probably the best known and most often performed, and is
another barnstormer, with a real crowd-pleasing finale, which once again
Bavouzet dashes off with aplomb. Yet he
shows real restraint in the middle movement’s variations, which benefit from
his cool and precise approach. The Piano Concerto No. 4, Op. 53 is a tricky work, but
it has a beautifully affecting slow movement, played here with great
sensitivity. In a programme note from
Bavouzet himself, he reveals that in the 1990s he suffered with functional
dystonia, affecting his right hand, and it was only through extensive
physiotherapy over two years that his ability in the right hand was
restored. So perhaps the Fourth has
particular resonance for him. The final Piano Concerto No. 5, Op. 55 is full of sarcasm and
modernism, yet even here, Prokofiev includes a tender lullaby slow movement,
before a spirited ride to the finish.
These are wonderful performances, and unlike many cycles, there is much
to be gained from listening to these rich and varied concertos back to back –
you won’t be disappointed.
Prokofiev, S. 2014. Piano Concertos Nos. 1-5. Jean-Efflam Bavouzet, BBC Philharmonic, Gianandrea Noseda. Compact Discs (2). Chandos CHAN 10802(2).
Next, a disc of New World Quartets by the Brodsky Quartet – well, Dvořák’s String Quartet Op. 96,
‘The American’ is the obvious starting place.
And Samuel Barber’s (1910-1981)
String Quartet, Op. 11, with it’s famous slow movement, later orchestrated
by Barber as the Adagio for Strings (also arranged by the composer for
unaccompanied chorus too) makes sense too.
But the Brodsky Quartet fill out the disk with some interesting
companions. There are Two Pieces by Aaron Copland (1900-1990), as well as an arrangement by husband and
wife Paul Cassidy (viola) and Jacqueline Thomas (cello) of Copland’s Hoe-Down from the ballet Rodeo. George Gershwin’s (1898-1937) Lullaby for String Quartet gets an airing, and
the disc ends with a rather beautiful piece, Regret, by Dave Brubeck
(1920-2012), arranged especially for the Brodsky Quartet by the composer.
Perhaps given the choice of repertoire here, the Brodsky’s playing throughout
has a laid back, languid warmth, like a chocolate dessert. Tempos are on the slow side (particularly in
the Adagio of the Barber), and I do miss an element of drive and energy in the
last movement of the Dvořák. However, they bring a touching sensitivity to
the themes in the first movement, and the slow movement has suitable
pathos. The outer movements of the
Barber have a taut intensity, and the Brodskys are highly convincing, but their
Adagio, stretched almost to the limits of not collapsing under its own weight,
rather pulls focus from the rest of the work. Their performance of the Gershwin
Lullaby is again very slow, but it has a captivating, rather louche feel to it. Written as a harmony exercise for his
teacher, Edward Kilenyi, the piece was forgotten until it was published in
1968. The Brodsky’s take here lifts it
from a mere novelty to a rather enchanting confection. I have to confess here to a personal aversion
to Copland’s Rodeo, which I find too self-consciously ‘folksy’. However, the Brodskys’ arrangement here is
faithful to the original, and performed with great spark. I much prefer the Two Pieces by Copland, a
brightly rhythmic Rondino, preceded by a darker Lento molto, and the Brodskys
give them great character and intensity.
The closing Regret by Brubeck is an emotional piece, full of sadness in
its falling chromatic lines. Overall, I
would say these are performances that I would love to hear live – the risks the
Brodskys take with tempi, and their immediate and engaging style communicate
well, but on repeated listening, without the energy of live performance, their
laid back approach is not so sustainable.
Various. 2014. New World Quartets. Brodsky Quartet. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 10801.
(Edited versions of these reviews first appeared in GScene, July 2014)
