CD Reviews - January 2023

The first volume of pianist Orion Weiss’ series focussed on piano works leading up to the First World War, and with the second volume, Arc II we are into times of war and grief, with works by Ravel, Brahms and Shostakovich. Ravel’s (1875-1937) Le Tombeau de Couperin was composed between 1914 and 1917, and each movement of the suite is dedicated to friends who died in the war. The idea of the ‘tombeau’ is a 17th century term for a memorial piece, and Ravel is also paying homage to Couperin in its imitation of a baroque suite. The opening Prélude has a watery flow, yet Weiss’s articulation is always crystal clear, and this is a feature of his playing throughout, never allowing the impressionistic soundscapes to obscure the detail. The angular, meandering Fugue becomes more insistent as it progresses, and the Forlane has a swaying, almost jazzy energy. The quirky energy of the Rigaudon’s opening is contrasted well with its darker central section, and the Menuet moves from a gentle feeling of longing to a huge climax, and then a delicate ending. The rapid repeated notes of the Toccata never feel hammered, and Weiss has incredible lightness here, despite the waves of building turbulence. Brahms’ (1833-1897) Variations on a Theme by R. Schumann, Op. 9 take us back to 1854, and again a memorial to a friend, although he was still alive at this point, but following his attempted suicide, he had entered the sanatorium where he would subsequently die. The piece is in fact dedicated to Robert’s wife Clara, and as well as the theme (from Robert’s Bunte Blätter, Op. 99), he quotes from other compositions by both Robert and Clara, and it is a deep expression of grief for the loss of the relationships he had developed with the couple. Across the 16 variations, there is a wide range of styles and emotions, but there is an ever present longing and lyricism, to which Weiss is constantly alert. Yet he also brings out Brahms’ jerky rhythms, Mendelssohnian fairy lightness and weightier complex textures. The final variation’s tolling bass line with hints of the melodic motifs on top has a particular disintegrating poignance which Weiss captures perfectly. Shostakovich’s (1906-1975) Piano Sonata No. 2, Op. 61 moves us forward to 1943, and it is dedicated to his friend and teacher, Leonid Nikolayev, who died in the mass evacuation from Leningrad. Its opening movement starts deceptively easygoing, with a simple melodic line emerging from dancing rapids, but it quickly develops into a kind of nightmarish world, with an eerily distant march and then a steady build in ferocity. Weiss brings out the sense of unease in the moments of seeming calm, as well giving full power to the violent climaxes. The strange, jazzy half waltz of the middle movement is full of questioning sadness and an ominous throb on the first two beats of the bar, and Weiss leaves the final pianissimo line hanging in the air. The finale, with its long angular theme is pure Shostakovich, with its Bachian invention and increasing complexity, with repeated notes and spiky dotted rhythms. After such exhausting tension, Weiss finishes with two of Brahms’ Chorale Preludes for organ, in Busoni’s piano arrangements. ‘Herzlich tut mich verlangen’ has a warm, even-toned sadness in its longing, and ‘O Welt, ich muß dich lassen’ sums up the overwhelming sense of grief here, with its moments of more assertive certainty swept away by faltering sadness and a pianissimo conclusion of resignation. This is a powerfully emotive programme, performed with such sensitivity and passion, and I look forward to the final volume that promises times of joy.

Various. 2022. Arc II. Orion Weiss. Compact Disc. First Hand Records FHR128.

 

The Mariani Klavierquartett return with the second release in their cycle pairing Brahms’ Piano Quartets with those of Friedrich Gernsheim (1839-1916). Gernsheim’s music suffered from a ban in Nazi Germany, and never really recovered, and it still deserves greater exposure than it receives, so this cycle is to be welcomed. In the first pairing, Gernsheim’s quartet stood alongside his friend’s admirably. Here, perhaps Gernsheim suffers a little next to Brahms’ mammoth A major Piano Quartet, Op. 26, weighing in at nearly 50 minutes. The opening movement is full of passion and is of epic proportions, yet the Marianis ensure there is a lightness of touch where needed, and Gerhard Vielhaber on piano never overly dominates the texture, which is also testament to the excellently balanced recording here. The piano is freed a little in the romance of the slow movement, with comments from the strings pulsing around it. Again, the Marianis achieve admirable lightness in the Scherzo, despite Brahms’ weighty approach, and they give the Finale energetic drive, with its stomping second beat rhythms, yet pull back expertly for the lighter moments, and the slowing train is beautifully judged before the final race to the end. Gernsheim’s Piano Quartet, Op. 47 is much lighter in mood, and the Marianis bring out the hints of ballroom swing in the opening movement. There is plenty of invention throughout, and galloping energy in the second movement is contrasted with warm lyricism. The slow movement is warm and lilting. Here Gernsheim ruminates on his melodic material to the point of slightly rambling, but the ending is sublimely touching nevertheless. The finale’s jaunty theme is treated to lots of fugal treatment and running accompaniments in its variations, with the piano in particular getting to show off with racing, cascading scale passages, and hefty chords are combined with more wild scales for the exuberant finish. Another illuminating release, and I look forward to the final volume. 

Various. 2022. Brahms & Gernsheim Piano Quartets. Mariani Klavierquartett. Compact Disc. Audax Records ADX11202.

In the sixth volume of his survey, pianist Barry Douglas tackles the second set of Impromptus, D935 and the Piano Sonata in A minor, D845 by Schubert (1797-1828). The Sonata was the last of three in the same key, and the most substantial of these. Douglas takes a weighty approach here, giving the opening movement the heft of a Chopin Polonaise, emphasising the drama. His tempi throughout tend towards the slow side, and this holds up some of the second movement’s variations, yet there is a spring in his step for the third movement scherzo, and the finale has suitable wildness in places. For the Impromptus, the first has smoothly flowing hand crossing and bell-like tone at the top, but the second is taken at a very slow tempo indeed, which means that the central bubbling triplets lose their urgency, particularly for the plunge into the minor key for its second half, and the return of the opening is in danger of grinding to a halt. The Rosamunde-esque dance of the third has poise and delicacy, but again could benefit from a little more flowing tempo, although the tempo does pick up as the variations’ complexity increases, and by the end there is a delightful flow in the rapid motion of Schubert’s decorative writing. The fourth has incredibly virtuosic running scales, and Douglas takes this at a suitably furious lick, making me wish there had been more of this fire elsewhere. After the exuberance of this comes Liszt’s gloriously rich transcription of Schubert’s Ave Maria to finish, and Douglas gives this great warmth and expression, as well as effortless virtuosity. Overall, a mixed contribution to his otherwise exemplary Schubert survey so far. 

Schubert, F. 2022. Schubert: Works for Solo Piano, Volume 6. Barry Douglas. Compact Disc. Chandos CHAN 20253.