Rachmaninov wrote two major
works for two pianos: the Fantaisie (Tableaux), Op. 5 (also known as Suite No.
1) and the Suite No. 2, Op. 17, and then also transcribed his Symphonic Dances,
Op. 45 for two pianos. Canadian pianists
Louis Lortie and Hélène Mercier have recorded all three, and the results are
delightful. It is immediately clear
these pianists have played together for many years, right from the mercurial
rippling of the opening movement of the Fantaisie, through to the whirling
exchanges between the two pianos in the sweeping waltz of the Suite No. 2. The thundering bells of Easter in the
Fantaisie’s final movement are hypnotic, and Lortie and Mercier emphasis the
percussive nature of Rachmaninov’s writing here to great effect. Yet they show great sensitivity and emotion
in the operatic Romance of the second Suite. This movement, and the Tarantelle
finale especially are highly reminiscent of Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto No. 2,
composed just a few months earlier – others perhaps take this Tarantelle at a
faster pace, but Lortie & Mercier’s energy and precision cannot be
faulted. The Symphonic Dances, Op. 45
are in some ways from a different world, being the last work to which Rachmaninov
gave an opus number, published in 1942, at the end of his compositional
career. He is clearly looking back here,
with many references to his own work as well as hints at other composers, as
well as the Dies irae chant that crops up so often in his music. Composed as an
orchestral work, he premiered his own transcription for two pianos with
Vladimir Horowitz in 1942. A sad air of
nostalgia runs deeply through the music, and the pianists here capture this touchingly,
still giving bite to Rachmaninov’s occasional outbursts of anger too. There are many strong recordings of these
works, and Argerich/Friere or Ashkenazy/Previn take some beating, but this
recording certainly holds its own in such exalted company.
I was lucky enough to
recently catch the early music group Alamire, directed by David Skinner (see my review here),
performing music from their latest recording project, drawing on music from
Anne Boleyn’s Songbook. Their live
performance of music from their 2 CD collection was exceptional, and immediately
led me to seek out the recording. The
songbook contains collected motets, mostly sacred, but also a few chansons, and
whilst the exact provenance of the collection is uncertain, the connection to
Anne Boleyn is broadly accepted. The chansons
are performed with great poise and elegance by contralto (and member of the
consort) Clare Wilkinson, accompanied by Jacob Heringman (lute) and Kirsty Whatley (harp). Alamire’s sound is arresting, and
noticeably different from many of the other early music consorts around,
despite drawing on a number of familiar faces amongst the vocal forces. Skinner
elicits a more direct, assertive sound, with the individual lines more prominent,
particularly in the lower voices. Whereas other groups aim for a purity of blend
above all else, Skinner allows the structure of the music to speak, and is
never afraid to allow the sound to carry some weight. Highlights
include the small scale, Mouton’s (c.1459-1522) dark-toned Tota pulchra es, for mens voices, through to the glorious larger
scale Stabat Mater settting by
Josquin des Prez (c.1450-1521). Often Skinner’s pitch choices are low, again
accentuating the richness of the lower voices, and this is particularly evident
in Josquin’s wonderful Praeter rerum
seriem. The disc is nominated for a BBC Music Magazine Award, and by the
time you read this, the result will be known – despite being up against TheTallis Scholars and Tenebrae in the choral category, they stand a very strong
chance of winning (update: Tenebrae won...). Highly recommended.
Pianist Barry Douglas is now
up to his fifth volume of the Works for Solo Piano by Brahms (1833-1897), and
the standard remains impressively high. As with all the previous volumes, he
mixes and matches larger scale works (here, three sets of Variations), with
shorter works taken from various sets, rather than keeping those sets
together. If you are familiar with the
sets of Intermezzi, for example, it takes getting used to not hearing them in
juxtaposition, but on the other hand, it makes the ear perhaps focus more on
their individual beauty. So here, as
well as two Intermezzi each from the Op 76 & Op 118 sets, there are two
Sarabandes, and three of the Hungarian Dances, first composed for piano four
hands. The first of the sets of Variations here is the second book using the
famous Paganini theme – he recorded Book 1 in the fourth volume CD. Brahms
repeats the theme at the start of this second book, and then sets off on
another 14 wide ranging variations, covering all the extremes from light
filligree detail to real barnstorming virtuosity. The chorale-like original
theme of the next set of variations here, the Op. 21 No. 1 set, is a great
contrast, and the variations that unfold are perhaps more subtle and less
obviously showy to begin with at least, allowing Douglas more opportunity to
demonstrate his warm tones, through the slow build to the dramatic ninth
variation, before the surprisingly subdued yet touching final variations. The firey Scherzo is given full weight, in
contrast to the sombre second Sarabande and the beautifully delicate Intermezzo
No 3 from the Op 76 set. The lively
Variations on a Hungarian Song are joined appropriately either side by three of
the Hungarian Dances, and Douglas performs these with joyful panache. Another great volume in this increasingly
singificant survey of Brahms’ piano music.