New and recent releases of piano music

By The Cross-Eyed Pianist | February 1, 2019

Leon McCawley – Schubert piano music (SOMM)

This enjoyable account presents Schubert’s often overlooked Drei Klavierstucke D946 alongside song transcriptions by Liszt and a rollicking Wanderer fantasy. The Klavierstucke (literally, “piano pieces”) were written in 1828 and are impromptus in all but name. They share the same structure as the popular D899 and D935 sets and are works of startling variety, colour and mood. McCawley neatly captures Schubert’s mercurial nature but never dwells too long in the melancholic, reminding us that though these pieces were written the year Schubert died, their composer was still very much alive. This is most clearly demonstrated in the third of the triptych, an energetic scherzo with a hymn-like middle section, and throughout the three works, McCawley highlights their songful qualities and dramatic contrasts.

Schubert’s songs, refracted through Liszt’s genius into wonderfully absorbing pieces for solo piano, are here given warmth, virtuosity and heroism in equal measure – for example in the gradual climatic grandeur of Auf dem Wasser zu singen, beautifully paced by McCawley. Meanwhile, McCawley’s Wanderer is a muscular majestic canter, positive in message but also replete in subtle harmonic shadings and an eloquent sensitivity to Schubert’s shifting emotional landscape.

Olga Stezhko – Et la lune descend: Claude Debussy

Appropriately, I listened to this generous new release from Olga Stezhko while reading a review of the new Pierre Bonnard exhibition which has recently opened at London’s Tate Modern.

Comprising of five suites, the album ‘Et la lune descend’ marks the centenary of Debussy’s death and charts the development of his writing for piano solo from the very first ‘Suite bergamasque’ to the much lesser known last suite ‘Six epigraphes antiques’. – Olga Stezhko

Like Bonnard’s paintings, Olga’s Debussy is vivid and richly-hued, the finer details of the music revealed through sonic clarity combined with a suppleness of pulse and tempo which never feels contrived or forced. Interior voices and details are sensitively highlighted. The piano sound in the upper register is particularly fine, with a harp-like crystalline clarity; one can almost sense the absolutely tautness of those high treble strings.

Anna Szalucka – A Century of Polish Piano Miniatures (Naxos/Grand Piano)

Another album to mark an anniversary, Anna Szalucka’s debut disc was released to coincide with the centenary of Polish independence in 2018. Each work represents a significant moment in the country’s musical and political history and the album pays tribute to the bravery of composers who stood up for freedom in art and culture during politically turbulent times. Appropriately, the album opens with works by Ignacy Jan Paderewski, a passionate advocate for Polish independence and appointed the country’s prime minister in 1919. Miniatures by Szymanowski, Bacewicz, Gorecki, Mykeityn and Panufnik bring us almost to the present day and demonstrate the variety and inventiveness of the heirs to Chopin. While others may dwell on sentimentality, Anna takes a simpler (but never superficial) and more direct approach in her interpretations. Her playing is committed and authoritative with a piano sound that is warm and bright.

Adam Swayne – (Speak To Me): New Music. New Politics (Coviello)

Another musical journey in Adam Swayne’s new album and one which touches on the politics of present-day America in two works reflecting art’s ability to offer commentary on contemporary events and popular culture. Kevin Malone’s ‘The People Protesting Drum Out Bigly Covfefe’ was commissioned by Swayne and integrates popular songs captured live at anti-Trump rallies in the UK and the US – a permanent testament to the circumstances surrounding the piece’s creation. It’s energetic and urgent, and Swayne handles it with an assured aplomb and wit. This work sits well with Rzewski’s North American Ballads, which are based on American folk and work songs, and draw on folk musician and activist Pete Seeger’s work. Meanwhile, Amy Beth Kirsten’s Speak to Me, a work in three parts, includes vocalisations by the performer. Although based on the Echo and Narcissus myth, the political inference is clear in the “censoring” of the performer’s voice in the final movement where we hear the piano alone. Again, Swayne handles this music with assurance, creating an unsettled calm in the last movement. The album is bookended by Gershwin’s Three Preludes and Morton Gould’s Boogie Woogie Etude, and Swayne brings a toe-tapping energy and swagger to the Gould and the first and last of the Gershwin Preludes, while the middle of three is soulful and sensuous, deeply redolent of ‘Summertime’ from Porgy and Bess.

Karim Said – Legacy (Rubicon)

This interesting new release from Karim Said juxtaposes Byrd, Morley, Bull and Tomkins – with piano music by Schoenberg and Webern. Said takes Joseph Kerman’s assertion that William Byrd had a “pervasive” influence on Arnold Schoenberg as the inspiration for the repertoire included on this disc and his fascination with the way composers influence one another, in this case across the distance of 400 years, is demonstrated in the organisation of the works on the disc. The Renaissance pieces take on a new dimension when heard alongside Schoenberg’s Suite for piano, op.25 and Webern’s ‘Kinderstuck’. This thoughtful disc is a wonderful example of how the old can shine a new light on the new, and vice versa, and Said’s tasteful, elegant playing brings the music to life with grace and clarity.

Cordelia Williams – Bach & Part: Piano Works (SOMM)

These two composers are natural companions as both share a deep spirituality and clarity of expression. The works on this disc reveal each composer’s interest in the way musical lines overlap, intertwine and respond to one another. While Bach’s counterpoint is concerned with the interplay of voices and motifs, Part’s explores timbres and intervallic relationships between the melodic lines; both share a striving for essence and economy of expression. Williams’ clarity is complemented by exquisite phrasing and musical sensitivity, a tender intimacy and simplicity in the works by Part, and elegance of expression in the Bach Inventions and Prelude.

A favourite album: «Resonance de l’Originaire»

By The Cross-Eyed Pianist | January 14, 2019

Schubert works for piano duet and piano solo – Maria Joao Pires & Ricardo Castro

Deutsch Grammophon 2004

I was given this album by a friend for my 40th birthday in autumn 2006. I thought turning 40 would be easy: I told myself it was “just a number” and that it had no real significance, that it was just another day in my life. In fact, my birthday coincided with a difficult period in my adult life, when I realised, with a shock, that the boundaries of one’s emotional life are not completely impermeable, and that being married does not make one immune to another person’s attention and admiration.

During the year of my birthday, I started playing the piano seriously again after an absence of nearly 20 years (in the preceding years I was busy getting married, setting up home, working in publishing and antiquarian bookselling, having a child, and I lost interest in the thing about which I cared very passionately when I was at school).

Some of the first pieces I returned to were Schubert’s D899 Impromptus and the Moments Musicaux, pieces I had always liked, and attempted and played rather badly as a precocious teenager (my mother bought me the Edition Peters score after hearing Alfred Brendel play them). Returning to the piano after such a long time away was very hard, yet it was gratifying to find pieces that had been carefully learnt in my teens had not been entirely forgotten and were still “in the fingers” (as a professional pianist colleague of mine said once “the body does not forget that easily” – and it’s true). At that time, I didn’t even have a piano: I was playing, and teaching, on a digital piano, which did the job, but had none of the subtlety nor refinement of an acoustic piano.

At the time of my birthday, I was doing a lot of reading about Schubert’s Impromptus, pretending this was “research” for my (still unpublished!) novel. The D899 Impromptus have a special significance for the hero of my book – a young concert pianist poised on the cusp of a brilliant career until the First World War cruelly intervenes – and each one connects him to particular people or events in his life. It is significant that in his first concert after the war is over he plays the Impromptus as a way of reaffirming these connections and celebrating life and love.

Of course, in reality these late piano pieces of Schubert, together with the D935 Impromptus and the final three sonatas, are the works of a man at the end of his short life, yet Schubert was less than 10 years older than the hero of my novel when he wrote these wonderful works. These pieces, composed during a remarkable outpouring of late masterpieces, display many emotions, from anger and defiance (the D958 Sonata in C minor) to resignation and valediction (the last Sonata in B-flat, D960). The Impromptus are in many ways miniature versions of these big works: full of variety, containing a broad sweep of emotions from the chillingly bare G which opens the first of the D899 set to serenity of the third in G-flat and the final, life-affirming cadence in A-flat major of the fourth Impromptu.

The Fantasie in F minor, D940, which opens «Resonance de l’Originaire», was composed in 1828, the last year of Schubert’s life, and is written for four hands (two pianists at one piano). It has a four-part structure, not unlike a sonata, but the “movements” run into one another with stylistic bridges between each. Schubert had already explored the Fantasy form in his Wanderer Fantasie D760, a bravura work full of heroism and energy. By contrast, the opening motif of the D940 is elegaic and wistful, a distant horn call accompanied by murmurings in the lower register. In the hands of the pianists on this recording, the mood is melancholy, almost desperately tragic, yet tinged with great tenderness. Typically of Schubert, the mood soon takes a volte face with a new, more hopeful motif in the lower register, and throughout the work there are contrasting shifts of mood from poignant and heart-rending to dramatic, longing, intimate, charming and dance-like, and characteristic shifts between minor and major. The textures, shared between the two pianists, give the work an inner richness, and the reprise of the first theme is a touching reminder of the work’s underlying sadness.

This piece has, on occasion, reduced me to tears. When I was fortunate enough to hear it performed live by the artists on this disc, during Maria Joao Pires’ memorable Wigmore Hall residency in 2007, I think I cried through almost the entire performance, moved not only by the music, but also the fact that I was in the presence of an artist whom I greatly admired and respected (and continue to).

The other work for four hands on this double CD recording is the Rondo in D951, which provides a delightful salve after the emotional impact of the D940. Maria Joao Pires also plays one of the earlier sonatas, the genial D664 in A, while Ricardo Castro opens the second disc with the D784 in A minor, which shares some of the same emotional territory as the D940 in its sombre opening statement and dramatic Beethovenian gestures throughout the first movement. The final work on the disc is the dramatic Allegro in A minor, D947 “Lebensstürme”, also for four hands.

Musically and emotionally Pires and Castro seemed conjoined in the works for four hands on this album, while Pires’ solo performance in the Sonata in A is tender and delicately shaded. Between them, the two pianists on this disc give a sensitive and passionate reading of some of Schubert’s finest music for piano.

Fantasie D940

Piano Sonata in A D664 – 3^rd movt

Sonata in A minor, D784

Allegro in A minor D947

Revelatory late Schubert from Krystian Zimerman

By The Cross-Eyed Pianist | September 12, 2017

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I missed Krystian Zimerman’s London concert last April when he stood in for the indisposed Mitsuko Uchida and gave what was by all accounts a remarkable performance of Schubert’s last two sonatas, works written in the dying embers of the young composer’s life yet imbued with nostalgia, warmth, an intoxicating bitter-sweetness and, ultimately, hope.

It’s rare for Zimerman to come to London; even rarer for him to release a new disc. He feels that high-quality digital recordings have created a homogeneous sound and style, robbing art music of spontaneity and leading audiences to expect perfection on disc and in concert (something I largely concur with, based on my regular concert-going). Thus, he’s very particular about what and when he records. This is his first recording of Schubert’s last two sonatas and his first solo album for a quarter of a century – and my goodness it was worth the wait! The recording was made in Japan using a Steinway with Zimerman’s own keyboard (which, incidentally, he made himself) inserted into the instrument (like the great pianists of the past, such as his mentor Arthur Rubinstein, he travels on the condition that his own instruments and/or separate, particularly-voiced keyboards accompany him, to suit the repertoire he is performing). The result is impressive, the bespoke action producing a sweetly singing tone and wonderful clarity. In the liner notes (which take the form of an interview) Zimerman explains that the special piano action “is designed to create qualities Schubert would have known in his instruments. Compared to a modern grand piano, the hammer strikes a different point of the string, enhancing the ability to sustain a singing sound…..”

But of course it’s not just the bespoke action which makes Zimerman’s sound so special. No, there is more, much more to this performance. Overall, there is an immaculate sense of pacing, so sensitive and natural; the first movement of the final sonata, for example, unfolds like a great river plotting its final course, the hymn-like first subject theme imbued with joyful purpose which gives the music forward propulsion without ever sounding hurried (it’s a leisurely mässig). In the first movement of the D959, the grandeur of the opening sentence gives way to the wistfulness and intimacy of an impromptu – and immediately Zimerman’s sense of phrasing is revelatory, shedding light on details hitherto skimmed over by others and demonstrating a complete understanding of Schubert’s architecture and narrative, both within movements and the works as a whole.

Throughout, there is subtle rubato in his contouring of phrases, thoughtful use of agogic accents to highlight intervallic relationships or strikingly piquant harmonies (so much a feature of Schubert’s late music), a Mozartian clarity in the passage work and repeated chords (for example in the development sections of both first movements) and an understanding of Schubert’s very specific rests and fermatas – attention to tiny details which create remarkable breathing spaces and enhance the structural expansiveness and improvisatory character and modernity of this music. Restrained use of the sustain pedal creates transparent textures, most notably in the slow movements: the Andantino of the D959, too often the subject of musical “psychobabble” and emotional wallowing, has a desolate gracefulness in its outer sections which contrast perfectly with the hysteria of the central “storm”. When they come, the Scherzi (both marked Allegro vivace) are light and ebullient, though Zimerman is always aware that Schubert is often more tragic when writing in the major key. In sum, every bar is carefully considered and insightful, yet at no point does this music sound fussy, overly precious or reverential. This is some of the most natural Schubert playing I have encountered and it suggests an artist with a long association with and deep affection for this music

As regular readers of this blog will know, I have spent the last three years studying and learning Schubert’s penultimate piano sonata, D959. It has become something of an obsession for me, initially forming the bulk of my programme for a Fellowship Performance Diploma and now a piece of music I simply can’t let go of. I have heard many recordings of the sonata from Schnabel and Cherkassy to Andsnes, Leonskaja and Barnatan, in addition to five live performances (including by Piers Lane, Andras Schiff, Richard Goode and mostly recently Paul Berkowitz). When one spends so much time with a single piece of music, one can grow fussy, pedantically so, about how this music is presented in concert and/or on disc – so much so that I have stopped seeking out the work in concert because I listen far too attentively and critically for my own good…..and talking of “Goode”, the one and only live performance I really enjoyed, the one which left me with the feeling that this was how Schubert would have wanted his music performed, was by the American pianist Richard Goode at the Royal Festival Hall in May 2016 (of which more here). In Krystian Zimerman I have found my new benchmark, not just for the D959 but as a demonstration of how Schubert’s piano music should be played.

Very highly recommended