Leroy Anderson is probably most famous for his symphonic lollipops like Sleigh Ride, Blue Tango and The Typewriter. In this recording, which features the world premiere recording of his only piano concerto, we are treated to another side of this famous American composer. Ambitious and big-scale, the concerto is brisk, charming and very easy to listen to. The tunes evoke images of the American frontier and the work is generally straightforward. Slow, touching and poignant is the second movement which basks initially in nostalgia and then leads to a more catchy and upbeat rhythm. The last movement is very American and folksy, comfortable and unthreatening. Goodyear, who plays this, is competent but unassuming in his approach. Some might find him a little too reticent and inconspicuous. Nevertheless, this is a worthwhile addition to a collection, especially since it's the only version around.
Gershwin's great Second Rhapsody, which has been all but overshadowed by its predecessor, is flawed in parts but curiously satisfying. It is less jazzy than the Rhapsody in Blue but is often more thought-provoking and is more sensuously orchestrated. The melodies are more memorable and there is somehow more ambience, more of that mysterious Gershwin magic. Apparently, Gershwin was quite pleased with the results himself, calling it the best thing he had written in many respects, such as orchestration and form. Again, I find Goodyear a little too recessed although that is probably good for this work.
The rest of the works deserve some listening to. Gottschalk's ridiculously overblown and vulgar Grand Tarantelle is full of Lisztian bravura and you might even find it amusing if you don't take it seriously. The short works by Bowman and Joplin, despite their fame, are not very memorable (possibly because of their familiarity). Quite the most inaccessible work on this disc must be Gould's Interplay which is percussive and atonal, somewhat akin to Bartok. Nevertheless, even that has its moments.
All in all, this generous disc with its fine sound deserves a listen. It might not satisfy everyone equally but some parts of it are sure to be found appealing. Recommended for people on the hunt for less conventional classics.
Written by Melvin Yap
Come Rain or Come Shine:
The Harold Arlen Songbook
Sylvia McNair, soprano / André Previn, piano / Davd Finck, double-bass (Philips 446 818 - 2)
I am tempted to reproduce André Previn's excellent notes in the CD booklet for this review. He speaks much of Sylvia McNair and her mastery at different kinds of repertoire. McNair is already a very well-known artiste in the opera scene, but here, she shows that she is equally comfortable with and adept at jazz music as she is with Mozart, Strauss and Verdi. This is the second time that she is recording this kind of repertoire - the first saw her pairing up with Previn in music by Jerome Kern. I must say that this time round, McNair triumphs even more gloriously than in her previous attempt.
The choice of songs in this very generous CD (about 74 minutes of music) is wonderfully varied. The opening number, Over The Rainbow, is truly a superb representation of the excellent music-making that one can expect for the rest of the disc - poised, beautifully controlled, elegant, sophisticated and warmly nostalgic. She hardly sounds ungainly in any of the songs here for she lightens her voice just enough to suit this kind of music. The end-result is sheer delight - light and flexible, yet always musical and beautiful. The title track shows McNair at her most sensuous and mystical, proving a serious challenge to the likes of Bette Midler and Michelle Pfeiffer. She also attempts an Ella Fitzgerald-kind of improvisation, running scales and scat-like ad libitum passages in faster songs like the brilliant Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea and It's Only A Paper Moon. She also knows how to have fun - check out the brilliant jazz inflexions in Ac-cent-tchu-ate the Positive, one of my personal favourites. Throughout, McNair sounds like some true-blue jazz singer, and we never get the impression that she is an opera star who is doing one of those "crossover acts" (like Kiri Te Kanawa, although she was certainly not half as successful at it!), a term that Previn argues most convincingly to be one coined by record companies as marketing gimmicks to promote their classical musicians.
As much as this disc is a triumph for McNair, Previn's contributions also deserve much commendation. He is a very sympathetic accompanist, always well attuned to the jazz idiom, often brilliant yet never overwhelming the music or the singer. David Finck's bass matches well with Previn and McNair.
The digital recording is just a fraction too bass-heavy (Finck's bass is rather overpowering at times), but in this kind of repertoire, it is not wholly inappropriate. Previn writes in his notes of upcoming projects to record many more albums of great American songs with McNair - I suppose we can all look forward to those with much eager anticipation. In the meantime, this disc is highly recommended if you like jazz or are a fan of Harold Arlen - you won't want to miss out on music-making of such quality.
Written by Lionel Choi
Claude Debussy (1862 - 1918)
Twelve Etudes for piano
Mitsuko Uchida, piano (Philips 422 412-2)
I first bought this disc quite a long time ago with much apprehension. Firstly, Debussy's Etudes are not particularly well-known (at least not when compared to works like the Preludes and Suite Bergamasque). Next, pianist Mitsuko Uchida had never ever recorded anything vaguely resembling twentieth-century music before - we only know that she is an outstanding Mozartian, and Mozart is hardly anything like Debussy. And finally, at 47 minutes, this disc is distinctly short measure.
But it is a good thing I decided to buy it after all. Uchida's technique in these phenomenally difficult pieces is simply flawless. Her easy virtuosity is simply breathtaking. There is an element of coolness in her interpretation of these very fine but quirky pieces, but this is hardly inappropriate for a composer like Debussy. She captures the impressionistic moods well, and her very wide dynamic range (something she had not explored in Mozart) and massive control of keyboard colour remind us of the great Walter Gieseking in such repertoire. Uchida also knows how to have fun - just check out "Pour les cinq doigts", Debussy's personal tribute to Carl Czerny. "Pour les Octaves" is poignant, and "Pour les Notes répétées" sees both pianist and composer at their most sarcastic, with enough pawky humour to almost rival Prokofiev. "Pour les huit doigts" is an astounding display of manual dexterity, and the final etude "Pour les Accord" is a tour de force.
In short, Uchida takes us on an unforgettable journey through the many possibilities of the piano, exploring very wide colours, dynamics and emotions that this very interesting (and unjustly neglected) music deserves. The digital recording is so good that the piano has never sounded more real and 'present'. (In fact, I would rank this recording as having the best sound ever for piano music.) Urgently recommended.
Written by Lionel Choi
Franz Liszt (1811 - 1886)
Piano Sonata in B Minor
Alexander Scriabin (1872 - 1915)
Piano Sonata No. 2 in G Sharp Minor, Op. 19 (Sonata-Fantasie)
Ivo Pogorelich, piano (DG 429 391 - 2)
The Liszt B Minor Sonata is a masterwork, unique of its kind: technically difficult, structurally daring for its time (1853), and born of a period (the Romantic) neglectful to the sonata genre, it's been a staple in the concert halls for a century or more, yet has somehow, like so much of Liszt's music, always generated heated controversy. Detractors, their numbers dwindling these days, see it as flash and schmaltz, the product of a transcendental pianist with mediocre compositional skills. The vast majority, however, find this fascinating one-movement sonata the creation of a genius who fully grasped the far-reaching expressive scope of his musical instrument. The piece is dominated by just four motifs, yet, through Liszt's clever expansion and development of them, the listener is mesmerized by the illusion of thematic abundance throughout the half-hour or so duration. The piano alternately sings romance, seethes with tension and high drama, and dazzles with that seemingly ubiquitous Lisztian demonic spirit, the whole comprising a sonata on the highest artistic plateau.
The Scriabin Sonata No. 2 (1897) is not quite on the level with the Liszt. Its inspiration is the sea and its language impressionism. It is a relatively subdued work of great beauty, hardly foreshadowing the startlingly original compositions soon to come from this composer, like his late piano sonatas and the Poem of Ecstasy and Prometheus--The Poem of Fire. Still, this work is a highly rewarding filler and the perfect foil to Liszt's more passionate outpourings.
Ivo Pogorelich, known for his quirkiness and unpredictability, is here relatively straightforward. This is not to suggest that he shortchanges the tautness and dramatics in the Liszt or the dreaminess and serenity in the Scriabin. Indeed, despite his slow tempos in the former, he infuses the piece with as much drive and passion as you're likely to hear on any recording. From the perfectly-gauged ominous opening to the sensuous phrasing of the tender middle passages to the furious Prestissimo near the end that arrests the ear with awe, Pogorelich catches the score's every element with keen artistry. While he doesn't quite scale the heights that Argerich and (the earlier) Horowitz do in the Liszt, he is their match in poetry and very nearly their match in technical skills there. Plus, he has superior sound. And, while certain critics may not approve of Pogorelich's ponderous approach in the Scriabin, I must say I find it utterly enchanting and well-conceived, a rather fresh approach in a pianistic age all too often dominated by fleet-fingered virtuosos with stale ideas. In sum, this recording is an impressive effort from both the pianist and production team.
Written by Robert Cummings
Ferrucio Busoni (1866 - 1924)
Piano concerto, Op. 39
Garrick Ohlssohn, piano / Cleveland Orchestra and Men's Choir / Christoph von Dohnanyi (Telarc CD 80207)
Most people probably haven't heard the name Ferrucio Busoni or his most famous composition, his piano concerto. This is an extraordinary work --- a piano concerto spanning five movements, lasting more than 70 minutes and having a chorale finale to boot. Ambitious, gigantic and grandiose, this unique and unconventional work draws an eclectic inspiration from the music of Beethoven, Brahms, Wagner, Chopin and Liszt.
Although initial reviews to this work were less than friendly (one reviewer called it a 'flood of cacophony' and 'frightful'!), I have found this an interesting and rewarding work to listen to. Bizarre sounding at times, hinting at Eastern mysticism at other times, it is a brilliant tour de force which attracts attention despite its blatant pomposity and pretensions.
It is difficult to describe the work since it sounds like nothing I've ever heard before or since. It is often noisy, imperious and exotic. There are of course lovely melodies interweaved into that tapestry of noise. For some reason, I am captivated by the fourth movement, an All'Italiana: Vivace which has the piano battling excitingly against the orchestra in a glorious and magical moment at around the sixth minute into the movement.
The best part of the work is the solo piano of course. Staggering difficult to play, this work fortunately is able to retain its appeal and lyricism in spite of formidable technical complexity. Ohlssohn rises up to the challenge and tackles all the difficult passages with ease and panache. His performance is often electrifying and abounds in virtuosity. It is the rare listener who can fail to be unimpressed by the sheer excitement this recording stirs up.
Dohnanyi and the Cleveland orchestra provide exemplary support and the sound, coming from Telarc, is naturally first class. Not necessarily for adventurous people only, Busoni's concerto in my opinion deserves a greater presence in the mainstream repertoire.
Written by Melvin Yap
To return to the table of contents in the archives.Copyright © 1996 Lionel H Y Choi, Melvin J Yap, Robert Cummings