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Beethoven Piano Sonata Cycle Journal (Redux)

Is it true?

I believe so. In the liner notes it says

> She did not play as at a recital, that is a whole work at a time but,
> in the search for perfection, she broke up the work into small units
> which she than aimed to combine. These days most performing artists
> have long abandoned such a method, preferring the impetus of
> performance to a perfection which is often accompanied by a certain
> sterility. [...] Work on the stored material ceased in the nineties,
> albeit minor repairs of a technical nature still proved necessary.
> The final touches only took place in 1995, in connection with the
> present issue, after Annie Fischer had passed away.
>

Can you tell?

No. And that's a credit to her and her engineering team. Especially given that she didn't play a whole movement at a time, it seems. Extraordinary that there is no loss of organic flow. But IMO there isn't.

The Hungaroton recordings are fabulous, IF you can go along with her style. But this is true of everyone! She's musicular. I'd say what she did in the studio for Hungaroton is more interesting to hear than the other Beethoven recordings she made, either live or for EMI.
 
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You like slow late Beethoven? If so, Olivier Chauzu might just be the guy for you.

Op 101 starts with a slow Allegretto ma non troppo, bordering on Andante at least, and maybe Adagio. Yet it holds together and flows and sounds wonderfully deliberative, if not transcendent. The march is slow and heavy, but again Chauzu makes it hang together very well. The Adagio again is slow and not especially transcendent, and the fugal playing is on the slow, emphatic, heavy side, and quasi-orchestral in scale. In some ways, the playing lacks most of the traits I prefer, but somehow it captivates.

Chauzu plays Op 106 more slowly yet, taking just shy of forty-nine minutes. While I appreciate a variety of approaches and tempi for the work, that's on the generally too long side. Some really long versions work for me, Eschenbach coming to mind, but it's rare. This is a rare recording. Chauzu is slow across the board, too - by movement, 12'45", 3'01", 20'+, 13'+. The first two movements sound quasi-orchestral and move forward with immovable musical force. (Others may say they sound lumbering.) They do sound slow, but that doesn't matter. It's unabashedly big and slow. And clear. Chauzu prefers to reveal details. The Adagio sounds cool and detached. It doesn't really evoke a sense of desolation or anger or darkness or anything. It's somewhat clinical, though also attractive. The slow Largo and comparatively slower fugue sound heavy yet clear, quasi-orchestral yet as transparent as chamber music.

This is not a disc to love. It's not a disc to put on to just enjoy. It's a disc to listen to in order to follow individual voices and to be enveloped by a big, detailed sound.



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The dollar store cycle. For a good long time, I owned the second volume of Robert Taub's basically out of print sonata cycle on Vox, and I looked for the other volumes from time to time and found nothing. Then, Musical Concepts, the company specializing in cheap physical reissues worth considering (eg, Maurice Abravanel's Mahler cycle), starting selling the cycle in MP3 download form for $0.99. I am generally not a fan of MP3s, but I wasn't about to hunt down physical copies for the prices that they sometimes fetch, so I decided to take the painless plunge. I mean, worst case, if the sound drove me nuts, I could just delete the files and be done with it, and best case I end up with a world class cycle for less than the price of a cup of mediocre joe.

Since the MP3 download presents the sonatas in order, I decided to listen as presented. Taub's take on 2/1 is pretty conventional. A nicely paced and energetic Allegro gives way to a slow and thoughtful Adagio which transitions to a slightly slow and dramatic Menuetto which in turn leads to a fast and potent Prestissimo. Op 2/2 is much the same. The opening Allegro vivace is energetic and a bit gruff, which can work splendidly as Seymour Lipkin has shown, and then moves on to a straight-shooting Largo appassionato that is a bit too fast for Largo and a bit devoid of passion, and a couple minutes in the playing becomes exaggerated and a bit clunky. The Scherzo is pointed and weighty in the outer sections, and slightly restrained in the trio, but nothing out of the ordinary, while the Rondo is energetic and fun. Op 2/3 likewise sounds energetic and gruff in the Allegro con brio, with decent separation of hands, though from time to time the playing does not sound ideally secure. Taub then plays the Adagio very slowly, though to the extent it sounds dramatic, it's sort of faux drama and intimately scaled. One benefit of this smaller scaled approach is that the tolling left hand notes sound more pronounced, though the benefit wears off quickly. Taub plays the outer sections of the Scherzo a bit slow, but he plays the trio with drive and energy, and the Allegro assai, rather than being played in light, virtuosic fashion, is somewhat more restrained, though it's hardly lacking in verve and fun. So, a solid, but not spectacular opening trio. Op 7 starts off with a somewhat measured, but rhythmically alert Allegro molto e con brio. There are some nice little touches, but it sounds a bit sleepy much of the time, and the transitions to more boisterous playing can be a bit clunky and blunt, and some of the playing doesn't sound especially tight. The Largo is played slow, with somewhat blunt dynamics and a stilted sound. The Allegro sounds a bit rough, but Taub plays the Rondo with a deft mix of energy, growl, and lightness.

With Op 10, I was revisiting recordings I've not listened to in a while. 10/1 starts with fast ascending arpeggios in the Allegro molto con brio, and a energetic exposition, development, and recapitulation, with no real surprises or idiosyncrasies. The Adagio molto is slow and has some chunky phrasing, with some pedal noise audible here and there, and works pretty well, while the Prestissimo is super fast and occasionally potent, and approaching Pienaar levels of excess without the additional weight he brings. Overall, it's a good rendition. 10/2 starts off with an energetic and boisterous Allegro. Taub varies dynamics nicely, and in louder passages the playing sounds gruff, though that probably just helps things. The Allegretto sounds a bit somber, but not overdone, and the Presto, with repeat, is bubbly and quick and fun. 10/3 starts with a quick and scampering Presto, again hinting at the overall style of Pienaar, but with less impact. The Largo manages to sound slow and tense, dramatic and biting, and Taub's lean tone heightens these attributes. The Menuetto lightens things up quite a bit, and if the overall rhythmic pulse is not ideally steady, Taub plays the trills rather nicely, and he ends the sonata with a vibrant Allegro.

Op 13 starts off with a s l o w and quiet Grave, and slightly dreary, with Taub lengthening pauses and going for some extra drama, and succeeding in a way, though the dynamic contrasts, even a bit less dramatic than with CD, are almost exaggerated. The Allegro is quick and weighty, with a solid rhythmic pulse, though the left hand playing is a bit muddy. The Adagio is appealing but a bit plain, while the Rondo is weighty and dramatic, but a bit stiff. The first of the Op 14 sonatas is paced nicely, but the dynamics are a bit stark and the playing a bit hard in the outer movements, though the Allegretto is very nice in completely straight-forward sort of way, and the Rondo is generally peppy and only occasionally too heavy. Op 14/2 opens with a light-ish but showy Allegro, moves to a quick Andante with nicely dominant left hand in some spots, and ends with a zippy Scherzo with slightly exaggerated left hand chords. Op 22 starts with a fast, high octane, take no prisoners Allegro con brio that brings that gruffness back. The Adagio mostly strips away the gruffness, and is lovely and on the swift side, and the repeated bass notes, when they are played, are crudely hypnotic (meant in a good way). The Menuetto is tensely lilting in the outer sections, and almost Op 57 fiery in the middle. Taub plays the Rondo with a generally robust and forward moving style in the first two themes, but the third theme is heavy and stiff, bordering on clumsy, though it's in-your-face punchy. Overall, it's one of the stronger performances of the set to this point. Op 26 starts off with a somewhat stark Andante theme, with Taub playing with a nice degree of variety, with the second and third variations a bit clunky, in an Op 31 jokey sorta way. Possibly. The Scherzo is awful. It's slow, clunky, ugly, and exaggerated. No joke. The funeral march is slow and lumbering, and the exaggerated dynamic contrasts and overly deliberate phrasing make it sound more stiff than serious or heroic. The concluding Allegro also sounds too stiff, with an ungainly coda. Op 26 is definitely not a highlight.

Op 27/1 sounds almost like another pianist plays. Taub plays the Andante sections with a gentler, more sculpted touch, and the Allegro sections are more pointed and potent, but through judicious pedaling and style he never even really sounds gruff. The Allegro molto e vivace is a bit slow, but it actually flows nicely until the rather rough end of the movement. The Adagio again finds Taub playing in more restrained and nuanced fashion, and then the concluding Allegro vivace is all energy and forward motion, but with hints rather than pervasive gruffness. While not one of the great renditions of the work, it's very nice. The Moonlight sonata opens with a fairly brisk but mostly unremarkable Adagio sostenuto, moves to a slow but mostly unremarkable Allegretto, and ends with a reasonably fast and robust Presto agitato, characterized by some of Taub's stark dynamic swings in some places. Op 28 opens with a tense Allegro where Taub plays the left hand with a pokey staccato and keeps the melody forward moving but kind of lumpy. I know this reads critically, and it is, but only sort of; the overall effect is still somehow pretty good. The Andante retains a certain nervous tension, and doesn't flow very well, but it, too, works. The Scherzo displays the same traits, but is just played faster, and finally, the Rondo closes the work out in a rushed, gruff manner, but it works fantastically well. Not a first choice, or a top ten choice, but I can see doing some A/Bs with it.

Starting in on the Op 31 trio, and Taub again deploys his rather stark dynamics in the Allegro vivace, and he also uses some subtle rubato and ends up playing it pretty straight, though that doesn't really result in much more than a so-so opening movement. The Adagio grazioso is pleasantly quick and not especially gracious, though the trills are nice enough and the Rondo is energetic though a bit plain - that is, personal touches are kept to a minimum. Op 31/2 opens with a relatively quick Largo, with Taub seeming to be in a hurry to get to the Allegro, which he pounds out with fiery accents, good articulation, and admirable speed. Taub keeps things tense in the Adagio, and his accenting and staccato playing make it a bit spiky. The Allegretto starts off a bit slow, but Taub plays with more bite and drive in the louder sections, and the stark dynamics work well. Overall, it's one of the best recordings of the cycle. Taub starts Op 31/3 with an Allegro that overall possesses enough energy and sounds fun enough, though a few passages are a bit rough and some of the playing sounds taxing. The Scherzo is played very fast, and here the dynamic contrasts end up sounding not stark enough. (The sound is a bit softer than in some earlier sonatas in the cycle.) The Menuetto is a bit soft and reflective, for Taub, in the outer section and pointed in the trio, while the Presto con fuoco is very nicely paced, bouncy fun. A strong but not great end to a good but not great trio overall. The Op 49 sonatas are both firmly played but not overdone; Taub keeps them light and fun.

Taub starts off the Waldstein with a turbo-charged Allegro con brio, zipping through the whole movement, somewhat compressing dynamic contrasts along the way. It's high energy and superficially exciting. Taub slows way down in the Adagio molto, or at least it sounds that way in comparison. He deploys a lot of pauses to decent aural effect, if not especially notable musical effect, and then moves to a fast concluding Rondo. Here, Taub does deliver more in the way of dynamic contrasts and some hefty bass. Like the opening movement, it is very energetic and at least superficially exciting. It's a good rendition overall, but not one for the ages. In Op 54, Taub plays the minuet theme in a somewhat gruff fashion, but the triplets have real punch to them. The Allegretto starts off a bit subdued and stiff, but Taub soon plays with more power and speed, though his playing never really sounds speedy and retains a bit of stiffness throughout. In Op 57, Taub plays with notable bite, but coming so soon after Dong-Min Lim's version, one can't help but notice that it sounds untidy in the Allegro assai. The dotted rhythm isn't steady enough, the articulation isn't clean enough. The dynamic range, though, is ample, and the excitement level generally high. The Andante con moto is straight-forward and mostly unaffected, while the Allegro ma non troppo goes against expectations in that Taub doesn't play it fast, instead playing with more restrained intensity and wide dynamic swings and thundering fortissimos. As with some earlier sonatas, there's a appealing gruffness to the playing here, and in this sonata, that can work fabulously well, like in Seymour Lipkin's version, but this isn't to that standard. It's just OK.

Taub delivers a spot-on Op 78. The Adagio cantabile has a just right tempo, nice but not exaggerated dynamics contrasts, and some nice cantabile playing, while the Allegro vivace is straight forward with only the minutest of personal touches. Op 79 starts with a bracing and quick, though not unusually quick, Presto all tedesca. Taub's right hand playing sounds bright and if he rushes some arpeggios and phrases, the choices work. The Andante, unfortunately, sounds a bit stiff, though the Vivace sounds buoyant and energetic. The Les Adieux sonata starts with a solemn introduction, but as Taub proceeds through the Allegro, some of the playing sounds taxed, with some awkward transitions and shaky articulation. I remember hearing Anton Kuerti play it in person in 2009 or 2010, and he likewise struggled a bit, but in that case he made up for it with sublime playing in the second subject, which is not the case here. The Andante espressivo sounds suitably solemn and introspective and comes off with no major hitches, while the Vivacissimamente is fast and energetic and celebratory. It's not a favorite. In Op 90, the opening movement basically alternates between slower playing that sounds despondent, and louder, faster playing that sounds tense, and Taub's stark dynamics work splendidly here. The second movement sounds unexpectedly lyrical, with subdued dynamics and comparatively gentle left hand playing. Not bad.

Taub starts Op 101 with a very slow Allegretto ma non troppo. There's no energy, no transcendence, no fire, no nothing. It's more like a Largo sans espressione. The Vivace alla marcia is strikingly conventional, and sounds excellent. In the Adagio ma non troppo, one hears the logic of Taub's opener, as the slower than normal pace essentially matches the opening material, but now it sounds a bit solemn and desolate. The Allegro sounds forceful and direct and Taub's digital dexterity is quite good. It ends up sounding more middle period than late period, but that's fine. A good take.

For the Hammerklavier, where Taub's is one of the rare recordings using something approaching the correct tempo in the opening movement, I decided to do some comparisons with other speed demons for the first couple minutes of the Allegro. Here the threshold is an opening movement lasting under ten minutes, repeat included. (I know it should be under nine minutes, but I wanted a broader selection.) The pianists are: Artur Schnabel, Walter Gieseking, Paul Badura-Skoda, Friedrich Gulda (thrice), Stewart Goodyear, Michael Levinas, Michael Korstick, Steven Osborne, Beveridge Webster, and Melodie Zhao.

- Schnabel, at 8'55", is fast, almost reckless, and doesn't hit all the notes, but he gets the spirit right.

- Gieseking, at 9'07", is a little less fast, not reckless so much as nonchalant, and garbles some passages, but it's a bit better than Schnabel.

- Badura-Skoda, at just shy of 10' is not as fast as the preceding two, but he varies tempi a bit more so the fastest playing is almost as fast and the slower playing is more relaxed. The playing is more composed and focused and less harried.

- Gulda (Decca), even at 9'36", sounds slower, more composed, more relaxed and more controlled than PBS, and decidedly more in control than Schnabel or Gieseking. It almost sounds easy in comparison. Too, it keeps a clean, lighter, more classical mien.

- Gulda (Orfeo), at 9'28, is similar overall, though with bigger dynamic swings, slightly less overall precision, and some more variation in tempi. It sounds slightly less easy.

- Gulda (Amadeo), also at 9'28, in better sound, sounds clean, accurate, with perfectly judged dynamics and tempo. It's one of the great recordings of the work.

- Goodyear, at 9'16", displays superb control, but it's pressed a little more than Gulda, and though modern, the sound is not up to snuff. Still, it's rock-solid.

- Korstick, at 9'08", just may be the best played of all, with fast passages super fast but super well executed, and slower passages downright leisurely. The recording is very fine overall, though the almost ridiculously long Adagio does require some expectation adjustment.

- Levinas, at 9'32", is less precise and controlled than the preceding three pianists, with occasional bouts of harried playing, but it sounds solid. Levinas manages to play an ascending left hand arpeggio with nice speed and clarity while the right hand sort of scampers around.

- Osborne, at 9'41", delivers museum quality playing. It may not quite be a match for Gulda, Goodyear, or Korstick, but it's damn close, and the modern, SOTA sound allows one to hear different voices even more easily than with Levinas.

- Webster, fastest of all at just over 8'30" (and available on YouTube), is fast to the point of being rushed, and somewhere between PBS and Gieseking in terms of playing. It sounds small scaled and light-ish (YT no doubt contributing to that), but it sounds exciting. Hopefully some intrepid specialist company will reissue this in proper digital form at some point.

- Zhao, at 9'55", is very assured, very clean, very accurate, and comes across as perhaps even more polished than Osborne, though slightly more constrained dynamically. I'll have to revisit her set soon.

Taub, at 9'14", is a digital era version of Schnabel, just less compelling. He rushes some passages almost to the point of caricature. It sounds as though he plays so fast that he has pause to reposition his hands to get back to the music, and at other times (between 6' and 6'30 or so), the playing is just a mass of notes blurred together. There's certainly a sense of excitement and lots of energy, but it's not one of the great, or good, opening movements. He follows this up with a fairly conventional Scherzo. Playing at a more standard tempo results in good, if not exceptional playing. The Adagio, at just over 15', is certainly swift, but unlike some other fast versions, it doesn't swap desolation and introspection for intensity and anger. It sounds occasionally intense, but mostly just kind of there, and it doesn't even flow very well; it becomes more episodic rather than less. The Largo is more or less conventional, and the fugue is high on excitement and less high on flawless execution. I can't say that this is a top fifty version of the sonata.

Op 109 starts with a Vivace ma non troppo that sounds unexpectedly small scaled and restrained. Taub's tone remains lean and his playing pointed, but there's little in the way of stark dynamics (one instance, really) or rushed playing, and he does a creditable job of creating a late-LvB soundworld, in particular evoking the "little stars" section of the second movement of Op 111. The Prestissimo does display more of the stark dynamics, and it has a nice forward momentum. Excellent. The Andante theme of the final movement is played in a direct, simple, and surprisingly lovely way. Taub plays the right hand marcato in the first variation, and the second is almost slightly exaggerated in its pointillistic clarity, with the last bars of the canon sounding almost like minimalist, slowed down "little stars" playing, whereas Taub rips through the third variation with some of his most controlled fast playing of the cycle. The fourth variation moves into a transcendent soundworld, even with some of the playing sounding a little gruff, while the fifth variation is more potent and perhaps a bit uncontrolled, with a blunt coda and awkward transition to the final variation. Fortunately, the final variation pushes past the fourth in its proper late-LvB sound, albeit with some gruffness intact. Taub upped his game here.

Taub starts off Op 110 with subdued and lyrical playing in the Moderato cantabile molto espressivo, and for the most part plays it straight. About half way through, he plays very softly, the left hand especially, to surprisingly good effect. The Allegro molto is fast and punchy, with the not as stark as expected dynamic changes very effective. The finale movement opens with a very slow first arioso section that sounds right hand dominated and a bit forlorn. The fugue sounds quite clear, though right hand dominates again, and it gives the subjective impression of being slow, though it's not notably so in terms of timing. The second arioso finds Taub introducing some slight pauses in the left hand playing, which makes some of the music sound blocky. Not surprisingly, Taub plays the repeated chords very well, building up volume to a satisfying volume, and he uses the sustain pedal and holds note values just the right length of time. The inverted fugue starts off slow and clear but quickly picks up speed, with Taub accelerating even more as it progresses and then pushing the coda to the point where it sounds a bit rushed and blurred. Overall, it's good, if not great.

Op 111 starts with nicely accented and weighty playing in the Maestoso, then transitions to an Allegro con brio ed appassionato punctuated by extra-beefy, almost exaggerated bass notes, and a nice taut tempo. Sometimes the playing borders on the manic, but the overall effect is fine. Taub plays the Arietta slowly, but he never really makes it sound either attractive or meaningful, and the first variation sounds more or less like an extension of the material. The second variation maintains a slower than normal tempo in this slow overall movement (19'33"), and the music does not flow particularly well. The boogie woogie variation is not especially fast, but Taub's somewhat stark dynamics contribute to generating a sense of excitement. After this variation, the slow overall tempo becomes even more obvious, and while Taub plays gently, it's in a sort of blunt way. The "little stars" are slow and crisp but don't evoke anything, and the chains of trills are nicely executed, but the remaining music ends up sounding too slow, with a stretched out musical line that detracts from the late LvB soundworld. The first movement is better than the second here, in an unfavorite Op 111.

Taub's Beethoven cycle is not one of the greats, but it's not bad most of the time. At its current price point and delivery method, it may very well end up attracting new listeners, which would be a good thing, so for that reason alone, I consider it a success. As to my personal ranking, this is fourth tier stuff.

I performed some A/Bs between the MP3s and the one volume of discs I own, and the MP3s are slightly less clean up top and in the bass, and have slightly less apparent dynamic range, but not enough to hamper listening enjoyment, and it is really only apparent through my main system. It doesn't matter at all through headphones. Since it turns out I'm going to have to go the MP3 route for another couple otherwise unavailable cycles, or unavailable at a price I am willing to pay for physical media, this sort-of experiment with an MP3 cycle was good enough to convince me to go download.



Amazon UK link. (It nine quid in the UK for the MP3s).
 
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Another new cycle is coming: Martin Rausch on Audite, scheduled for next month. It's listed at JPC for €16.99 for the nine disc set.
 
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In the middle of the first decade of this century, I picked up Claudio Arrau's complete cycle from the 60s and thoroughly enjoyed it. It didn't and doesn't crack my personal top ten, but it has remained firmly entrenched in the still exalted second tier based on occasional single sonata and disc outings. For a long time, I wanted to get his almost complete 80s cycle, but it has been prohibitively expensive. I was able to procure an MP3 copy a few years ago, and while that means sub-optimal sound, it's good enough to be able to hear the differences. (Indeed, fingernails and heavy breathing are as obvious in the later recordings.) I figured it was time for a proper A/B of the two sets.

There's really no better way to go through Beethoven's sonata than in sonata number order, so that's what I did. It's been a while since I last listened to the first complete set, and my stereo has gone through multiple upgrades. Before, some fingernail clacking was to be heard, and the occasional errant noise and breathing was evident in the 60s cycle. Now, there are breathing and errant noises (various creak and clacks) to be heard throughout. Beyond that, what there is to hear in the first three sonatas is a very earnest, serious approach to the playing. Just a bit on the broad side, but still effortlessly flowing (for the most part), Arrau exudes enough energy and bite (in the Prestissimo of 2/1) and virtuosity (in 2/3, sounding almost Op 50-ish) to make the works sound like the near-masterpieces they are. And of course there's his tone, robust and full. One thing that struck me more now than before was his technical command, which while excellent, falls short of the modern, younger superhuman pianists of today. (The Allegro vivace of 2/2 and the slightly broad Allegro assai both have some playing that sounds purposely dialed back.) The 80s recordings don't really vary a great deal in overall conception, or in the need for a better manicure, though the playing sounds a bit less secure in more places, and the tone sounds a little lighter and brighter, though that is at least partly due to the combination of the early digital sonics and MP3 lossiness. Much of the time, doing an A/B resulted in a "I just listened to this" feeling, but here and there Arrau rushes a phrase or plays an arpeggio slightly differently or something seems strained and slower. The playing also sounds slightly smaller in scale, and in more vigorous passages, there's less vim and vigor. Slow movements tend not to flow quite as well, but they also sound a bit more thoughtful. Also, a few times, some edits sound a bit obvious, though that's more the producer's fault. I did find it odd that Arrau dropped the repeat in the Allegro vivace of 2/2 in the later recording, given his tendency to observe all repeats, and Arrau's occasionally maxxed out execution in some of the playing is as obvious as some of Kempff's, but without the musical irrelevance. Arrau also takes quite a bit longer in the Rondo, to not so hot effect. The third sonata is a bit slow and lumbering in the opening movement, but picks up from there, with an Allegro assai that flows better.

Arrau's 60s Op 7 sounds leisurely but flowing in faster movements, somberly slow in the Largo, and overall is amply strong and well articulated enough to sound just swell, if not top twenty (or thirty) quality. The 80s recording, while barely longer, and not as secure, and not as flowing, nonetheless sounds freer and lighter overall, and the Largo manages to be more moving but less weighty/weighed down, and the Rondo adds some sweetness to the playing. From Arrau. Here's a case where the elderly Arrau trumps the late middle age Arrau. The recording might find its way into a shootout.

The 60s Op 10 trio starts with a 10/1 with a nice ascending arpeggio and sufficient energy and scale in the outer movements, and a drawn out and unyouthful but attractive slow movement; moves to a 10/2 that sounds perhaps just a bit too big and robust (and with tape limitations obvious), especially in the overcooked Allegretto, but that nonetheless makes for an enjoyable listen; and finishes with a 10/3 where Arrau starts off fast and weighty in the Presto, and a dramatic and romanticized Largo (with some now audible tape distortion), and satisfyingly peppy playing in the Menuetto and Rondo. The 80s set offers a very similar overall take for 10/1, with a bit less energy, and with some differently accentuated arpeggios and figurations in the second movement and a less well held together closer; boasts a superior 10/2 that finds Arrau playing with a lighter, nearly frolicsome demeanor in the outer movements, and the Allegretto is not as heavy and romanticized; and ends with a 10/3 that is stylistically similar, but not as potent or weighty or agile, and it sounds even more compressed than the other MP3 files, so I wonder if some studio post-production processing was involved.

The 60s Pathétique sounds big and broad and romantic, and if it lacks the drive, intensity, speed, and nimble fingerwork of other versions, it satisfies in its old school way, and the 80s version sounds similar in conception but a bit saggier in execution. The 60s Op 14 sonatas are leisurely tempo-wise, but manage to still evoke a sense of fun and lightness, if of the prim and proper variety. The 80s Op 14 sonatas are just too slow and heavy and cumbersome (14/1) or digitally dodgy and slow and cumbersome (14/2) to really enjoy. On the plus side, there are worse recordings out there. In the 60s Op 22, Arrau infuses the opening movement with not a little brio and hefty left hand playing; plays the Adagio in subdued, serious, middle or late LvB fashion (which is not to say ponderous), with each note so distinct and clear at times that when one string goes catawampus two minutes in, it is clearly audible; plays a suitably energetic Minuetto; and closes with a just a bit broad Rondo that mixes energy and unyouthful playing quite nicely. The 80s 22 starts off with a less energetic brio that is less secure than the earlier version, and the moves to an Adagio that, though slow and even more solidly late LvB in style, nonetheless sounds lighter and holds together better, before moving to a labored Minuetto and just plain too slow Rondo. The 60s Op 26 starts with an Andante where the overall tempo is broad, but Arrau variegates the variations nicely, and then he moves to a truly energetic Scherzo, a bold and predictably large scaled and serious funeral march, and he closes with a very beefy Allegro. It's a top shelf recording. The 80s recording starts with a really rather dreadful Andante, with Arrau stiff and struggling through parts of the movement. The Scherzo sounds scarcely better, while the funeral march manages to sound only slow and heavy, and the Allegro is slow, heavy, and unsteady. A flop of a recording. The 60s Pastorale is generally slow and warm and biggish sounding in the opening two movements, which works very well, and then Arrau gets all vibrant in the outer sections of the Allegro, which has a slow trio, and then wraps up with a comparatively light and fun Rondo, save for the more intense but not really intense middle section. An outstanding recording overall. The 80s recording is very close in overall approach, just basically slower and less secure. I think I'll stick with the earlier recording going forward.

In the critical Op 31 trios, the younger Arrau opens the first sonata with an energetic and playful Allegro vivace. He gets the mood just right. He takes his sweet time in the Adagio grazioso, but it retains a playful air, even when he builds up to the purposely exaggerated middle section, which is done to perfection within the confines of Arrau's style. (Alas, the pianist's lengthy fingernails make themselves very obvious in some of the numerous trills.) The Rondo is masterful in tempo choices and overall execution. A great reading of this sonata. The older Arrau sounds heavier and less secure in the Allegro vivace, with playfulness less noticeable. Arrau shaves about a minute off the Adagio grazioso, and it sounds more serious in purpose but lighter in delivery, as does the Rondo. An excellent version overall, but the earlier one is better. In the 60s Tempest, Arrau starts with a tense Largo and then launches into a beefy, powerful, driven, but not rushed Allegro; it's romantic and intense, but not overdone. It's just right. The Adagio is slow and heavy, and sometimes near-static, but all in a good way. Arrau plays the Allegretto in broad fashion, and it lacks the drama and drive of the first two movements, but he makes it sound ideally balanced. Another great recording. The 80s recording seems to strive for a similar effect in the first movement, but the overall tempo choices don't jell as well, and some of the phrasing seems rushed or strained and the impact is muted. The Adagio is slow and dramatic but lacks the tension of the earlier version, and just doesn't hold together as well, while the Allegretto, featuring some relatively prominent left hand playing, sags in more than a few places, and ends up sounding ponderous. It's no match for the earlier recording. In the 60s 31/3, Arrau maintains his big, full sound in the opening Allegro, and while it sounds impish here and there, it's somewhat serious. To Arrau's credit, it works perfectly. Arrau also keeps the Scherzo just a bit on the serious and heavy side, and if it doesn't work as well as the opener, it still works. Arrau makes his heavy, serious approach work far better than it should in the Menuetto, and especially the nearly lumbering trio. The Presto con fuoco, hampered by tape overload, sounds just peachy, with rollicking rhythm and boisterous energy. Another great reading overall and one of the great Op 31 trios on disc. I came to the 80s recording expecting another slower, heavier, and less secure rendition, but instead I got a lighter, peppier (considering Arrau's style) Allegro, a Scherzo that sounds jollier and more impish, a Menuetto that retains the effective heaviness throughout while enhancing the touching element of the outer sections, all while being more emphatic in the trio, and a Presto con fuoco bursting with wit and verve, at least most of the time. This recording is notably better than the already superb 60s version, and rates as one of the finest I've heard. The overall trio, though, is not as good as the earlier set.

The 60s Op 49 sonatas are beautiful and slow and somewhat heavy. The 80s recordings are a bit lighter, but the first is still a bit serious for the material, though the second is a delight. The 60s Waldstein opens in a slow and lethargic manner that sounds more Andante sans brio than Allegro con brio, though things pick up after a minute-and-a-half, just to slow way down again. I enjoy dynamic and dramatic contrasts, but this approach does not work for me here. The Introduzione is slow and dark-hued and somber, and this works much better, though here some playing borders on the stiff, and the finale opens a subdued wash of legato-laden beauty before switching to a weighty, rich, powerful sound possessed of ample scale and speed and drama. Overall, good, but not a favorite. The 80s recording, with its 12'28" opening movement, is a smidge worse than the earlier recording as it pertains to the traits I dislike, and less good in the traits I do like. The Introduzione is qualitatively about the same, and, somewhat surprisingly, the Rondo is actually a bit better overall, rendering this about a qualitative tie with the earlier recording. The 60s Op 54 opening movement has a lovely first theme and a wonderfully contrasted triplets second theme that sounds massive and full toned and almost symphonically scaled, if not as fast as some other versions. The second movement starts off slow, and Arrau never really plays it fast, but instead he builds up to monumental momentum that carries him right through to the end. The 80s version sounds like it is going for something similar in the opener, and succeeds in the first theme, but the second theme sounds close to clumsy. The second movement is smaller in scale and less momentous and well executed than the earlier recording. The 60s recording is much better here. In the 60s Appassionata, Arrau starts off quietly and slowly in the Allegro assai and at 11'20", his take never ends up being about speed and intensity; instead, he builds up to a pianistic equivalent of a wall of sound that again imparts a sense of unstoppable momentum. The Andante con moto is tonally rich and muted until the transition to the Allegro ma non troppo, which is played with a nice sense of urgency and honkin' scale, but it never really generates the degree of intensity that other recordings do. The 80s recording ends up more or less like other later recordings, sounding slower, smaller (though still beefy), and less secure, but partly because of the approach and the more reverberant recording, some of the little touches sound more compelling - some of the trills in the Allegro assai, for instance, sound more late-LvB style - and combine to create a sort of timeless if tired (or maybe weary) sound. This is reinforced with an almost liturgical sounding Andante con moto, one sounding so reverent that even some Japanese pianists (Sonoda above all) might suggest lightening up a bit. The long Allegro ma non troppo, in which Arrau sounds taxed, nonetheless manages to impart a sense of seriousness and devotion and drama that succeeds in making this more enjoyable than the earlier recording, against all reasonable expectations.

The 60s Op 78 is once again just a bit broad, but it flows nicely in the opening movement, and sounds energetic and nearly spunky in the second. The 80s Op 78 starts off with a more energetic and pointed first movement (possibly partly due to the recording), and moves to a just as spunky but not as effective or controlled Allegro vivace. In the 60s Op 79, Arrau opens the Presto all tedesca a bit heavy, but quickly course corrects and plays the rest very nicely, including the nicely jokey acciaccatura. The Andante is serious and beautiful and would not be out of place in another late work, and the Vivace is good fun. The Op 80s recording sounds even lighter and more fun in the opening movement, just as serious in the second, and nearly as light in the last. Both are very good, if not the best. The 60s Op 81a starts with a somewhat light, for Arrau, Das Lebewohl, possessed of notable forward drive and not much in the way of what one would think would accompany a farewell. (It also possesses a notable amount of tape overload.) Abwesenheit is a bit more emotive, though not heart on sleeve, and transitions to a nicely celebratory but still contained Das Wiedersehen. The 80s recording is stylistically very similar, with the more distant, resonant recording sort of making it sound a bit grander in conception. The 60s Op 90 opens finds Arrau playing the movement with palpable tension, weight, and nimble fingerwork, though the fastest playing trades speed and strength. The second movement flows nicely enough, and maintains a nice, rich tone. The 80s recording finds Arrau playing the heavy chords heavier and slower than in the earlier recording, but the faster passages have more bite and seeming anger in them, and here Arrau does not seem to trade speed for strength. The second movement does not flow quite as well as the earlier recording, and but it sounds tenser and more focused. The 80s recording might be slightly preferable.

Arrau starts off the last five sonatas in his 60s cycle with an Op 101 where the Allegretto ma non troppo first movement is nowhere near Allegretto. It's more like a pondering (not ponderous) Adagio, deeply rooted in a transcendent late LvB soundworld, while the more traditionally quick and pointed Vivace alla marcia sounds just nifty. The Adagio ma non troppo then returns to the feel of the opener and slows it down and deepens it. I could very easily understand if some people found it too slow, but Arrau pulls it off. The trills that lead to the opening of the Allegro are solid and strong, and the piece ends with Arrau's weighty playing which, if not the most meticulously and rapidly played, still manages to make the fugal writing sound like something more. A great Op 101. The 80s recording starts off with a likewise slow but craggier Allegretto ma non troppo; it sounds less transcendent, but more potent. Alas, the Vivace alla marcia is less secure and vibrant. The Adagio is again craggier, as is the Allegro, which ends up sounding more solid than the march.

For the Hammerklavier, Arrau never made a recording after the Philips set, so that's all I had to listen to. (Maybe one day I will track down his 1954 recording.) The initial tempo Arrau chooses sounds much slower than the fairly standard overall timing would allow for, and as such he picks up the pace pretty quickly. The opening few moments thus sound a bit off, but the rest of the movement works well enough and has enough heft, without overdoing it. The Scherzo sounds fairly conventional throughout. The long, twenty minute plus Adagio is of the heavy and dour variety, very serious, very desolate, and very romantic in approach. It works quite nicely for what it is. The final movement opens with a slow and somber Largo, and then Arrau launches into a faster and nimbler than expected fugue. Overall, an excellent, if not top twenty or thirty take.

The 60s Op 109, on the very broad side tempo-wise overall, opens with a broad, rich Vivace ma non troppo. It never quite establishes a particularly transcendent sound, but it sounds so serious and lovely that it is hard to fault. The Prestissimo is a bit broad and heavy duty. In the opening theme of the final movement, Arrau finally delivers transcendent playing which melds perfectly with his tone. Arrau slows down from his already stately pace in the first variation, to the music's detriment. The near stasis does not add additional depth; it just makes the playing sound too slow. Fortunately, the second variation, while also broad, is lighter and more ethereal, and the third variation, despite a somewhat stiff start, is played with enough energy and drive. The rest of the variations, though, all sound too slow and at times heavy. The overall tempo is just too slow. The 80s recording finds Arrau tightening things up a bit in the opening movement, and while not as rich, it sounds more transcendent and stylistically right. Likewise with the Prestissimo, which also sounds groovier, in a proper sorta way. The opening theme of the final movement is just about as slow as before, but here Arrau does evoke more of a late-LvB sound, a couple stiff phrases aside. He again plays the second variation very slowly, but here it works much better. He'll hold notes and chords just the right length of time, and there's a gentler and more ethereal feel. The second variation ends up evoking the "little stars" of Op 111, and the third variation, while a bit slow and heavy, effectively maintains a nice late LvB sound, and the remaining variations, while also a bit slow, and even solemn at times, sound much better and more effective than the earlier recording, with the trills in the final variation again evoking Op 111. Even with some slips in the last movement, the 80s recording is much better than the 60s one.

The 60s Op 110 opens with a flowing, beautiful Moderato chock full of rich cantabile playing. Some of the playing, though attractive, becomes a bit stiff and nearly gruff, and when combined with the aged sound, ends up detracting a bit. The Allegro molto sounds too slow, and the forte playing sounds more mezzo-forte, if that, and the trio sounds a bit clunky. The first arioso section of the final movement, played slowly, is of the transcendental variety and the listener can be gently swept away by its beauty. The fugue starts off slow and deliberate, and Arrau never really speeds up, though he plays in such a way as to add nice scale. The second arioso sounds lovely, but it doesn't flow as well, sounding chunkier. The repeated chords sound dark and rich, and build up in volume decently, and the sustain pedal almost adds an aura of mystery. The inverted fugue is stylistically the same, and while Arrau plays with a bit more drive as the coda approaches, it sounds strained. There are some really nice thing in this recording, but too many caveats for it to be a top thirty contender. The 80s recording starts off with a much slower Moderato. It sounds more intimate and personal, if also a bit too deliberate in parts. The Allegro molto is slower and heavier than the earlier recording, and just doesn't work that well. The final movement starts with a too slow but still transcendent first arioso, and somehow Arrau makes it work better than the earlier recording. He plays the fugue slowly, but it has enough clarity and late LvB sound to work, while the second arioso sounds close to the first, though the repeated chords sound dark but a bit weak. The inverted fugue finds Arrau playing anemically, episodically, and effortfully, and the piece ends with a so-so coda. Again, there are some fine moments, but this is not as good as the earlier effort.

The 60s Op 111 starts off with a heavy and dark but not especially ominous Maestoso, and a weighty but not especially vigorous or driven Allegro. The Arietta is very slow and serious, but not much beyond that. The first two variations are slow and serious, and the third picks up the pace a bit more than expected. The little stars section is strangely dull, the playing a bit forced and unsteady. While some playing sounds very late-LvB in quality, some sounds stiff and plain. The chains of trills are variable, the first nicely executed but kind of drab, the later trills brighter and lighter and more transcendent, and the coda is nicely Elysian. A very nice version, but not one for the ages. The 80s recording starts with a more effortful Maestoso and Allegro that makes up for a lack of supreme execution with a more appropriate overall feel. The Arietta sounds lovely and a bit lighter, the first two variations a bit more lively while still transcendent, and the boogie-woogie variation sounds better in spirit if less assured in execution. The "little stars" sound more mysterious and ethereal than before, though even here execution seems more strained. Likewise, the chains of trills are not as well executed, but Arrau gets the spirit of the music just right, especially leading up to the coda, with the coda itself is sublime. Here's one final case where the older Arrau outdoes the younger Arrau.

Relistening to the 60s set after a lengthy break, and after hearing dozens of other cycles in the interim, I am forced to conclude that Arrau's 60s set just doesn't really do it for me overall. There are some mighty fine highlights, but the set drops from second tier to third tier overall. The 80s set represents a sort of step down, with most sonatas sounding too slow and not secure enough. However, there are cases where the older Arrau upstages the younger Arrau - Opp 7, 10/2, 31/3, 90, 109, 111 - so the later cycle lands in the third tier as well.



Amazon UK link - 60s cycle
 
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It came to my attention that I omitted the Op 27 sonatas. I looked through my initial scribblings and couldn't find the first pass - it took a little over a month to listen to both sets back to back, and impressions are written on the first listen and revised with the second - so this is the TL;DR version: 60s Arrau in Op 27/1 is a bit too broad until the Allegro vivace, and the aged sound limits dynamic contrasts, and the same holds true for the 80s recording, though dynamics are slightly better and the playing slightly less secure sounding. In 27/2, there is only the 60s recording, which works well in the first movement, is a bit too stodgy in the second, while the third is energetic and dramatic enough to satisfy. None of the three recordings rate among my favorites.
 
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I figured it was about time I gave Rudolf Buchbinder's third complete cycle a try. I mean, I've listened to all three cycles from the other pianists who've done the same thing*, so why not Buchbinder? I've resisted this long only because I was hoping the 2014 Salzburg Festival performances would be released audio only, but since that has not happened yet, and since the set was available for forty bucks, I decided to wait no longer. I decided to listen to the sonatas as presented rather than skipping around.

Starting with the first BD, it is clear Buchbinder's overall approach has not changed much over the years, but he seems to have refined and tightened it up with time. His approach is still very serious, his playing lacks a wide tonal palette, and he tends toward somewhat quicker conceptions overall. There's certainly nothing at all wrong with that. The downside, if it's a downside, is that the early sonatas might sound a little less youthful, playful, or fun than they otherwise might. The first sonata, which opens the cycle, withstands the style well, and indeed, the swift and tense Adagio comes off very well. And as in his other cycles, Op 14/2 ends up sounding lighter and funner than Buchbinder's overall style might lead one to expect. Buchbinder plays 27/1 in a fairly swift, no-nonsense fashion, with no eccentric or exaggerated gestures, but more than a bit of drive and grit. It's classical style Beethoven through and through.

Next up is the Tempest, and once again, Buchbinder doesn't dilly-dally, playing the Largo at a tense clip, and the Allegro at an even tenser clip. Dynamic contrasts aren't especially wide, but forward momentum and drama are abundant. Same with the swift Andante, which almost sounds Andantino. There's no wallowing, no excess emoting here. It's just bracing music, as is, predictably at this point, the stormy Allegretto, with Buchbinder poking out some bass notes to nice effect. An outstanding performance. Op 31/3 follows, and it ain't too shabby, either. Quick, energetic, alert, fresh, and both serious and fun in equal measure, Buchbinder reminds me anew of why I always place such emphasis on these works. His prior two recordings were also excellent, so it's no surprise this one is, too. Buchbinder doesn't pussyfoot around with 10/1, which he launches with vim and vigor before pulling back a still not at all leisurely pace, before playing an Adagio molto that does sound rushed, though the tradeoff is fantastic dramatic tension for the work as a whole, leading as it does to a fast, clean, and exciting Prestissimo. Buchbinder starts off Op 26 with a lovely Andante theme, and then proceeds to play nicely characterized variations at a pretty brisk clip and then he plays the Scherzo at something approaching a breakneck pace, with a couple audible slips obvious as he pushes forward. Buchbinder backs off in terms of speed and intensity in the funeral march, presenting it somewhat coolly and defiantly as opposed to grand and heroically. Works for me. As does the slightly rough and definitely vigorous concluding Allegro. Rather than going for something light next, something merely short, in the form of Op 54, follows. The minuet theme is attractive and a bit swift, while the triplets section is extremely fast, with dynamic contrasts flattened a bit in the process. Not at all surprisingly, Buchbinder plays the Allegretto fast, as well, though not as fast as the triplets sections, and imbues the playing with a fully satisfying energy level, especially in the borderline OTT coda. The sonata comes off as light fun, as far as middle period Beethoven goes.

It's back to early stuff next with Op 7, and Buchbinder keeps things quick, pinging out the dotted rhythm and pushing the melody a bit in places. A bit more breathing room might be nice here, as it were, but one never has to worry about the piece sagging under Buchbinder's fingers. Buchbinder finally slows things down a bit in the Largo, but it's really a comparative thing, because it sounds pretty peppy for its designation, and it's pretty straightforward, devoid of much in the way of attention-seeking rubato or dynamic extremes. The Allegro quick and puckish in the outer sections and fiery in the trio, while the in the Rondo, there's a sense of actual relaxation and lovely lyrical playing in the outer sections, and even when the left hand playing adds a bit more heft, it never becomes intense. Intensity is reserved for the Tempest-uous middle section. The sonata is a bit more vibrant and fast paced than normal, and while not a tip-top choice, it makes for an invigorating listen. The disc ends with the Mondschein. The Adagio sostenuto is subdued and steady and evokes the proper mood, the Allegretto is quick and cleanly executed, and in the Presto agitato, Buchbinder defnitely gets the agitato part down as he plays with strong accents, solid rhtyhm, and nice, unyielding forward drive. A solid end to a rock solid first disc.

BD two starts with the third sonata. As expected at this point, Buchbinder plays in a straight-forward way, and here delivers virtuosity without overdoing it. The work is all vibrant fun, except in the Adagio, which is light-ish yet urgent and darker, with sweet low notes. (Buchbinder's got a badass left hand pinky.) Op 49/1 follows, and Buchbinder keeps it light and fun, but even here he just presses right ahead. No reason to back off entirely, especially if you can pull it off. The Les Adieux comes next. The opening movement is of the spirited variety, with comparatively little in the way of sorrow or undue weightiness. Buchbinder plays the Abwesenheit with a sense of restless resignation and tense anticipation, as well as a little bit of vocalizing. Das Wiedersehen bursts into being with joyous and vibrant playing, and rather impressive fingerwork. The first unambiguously great early sonata, Op 10/3 follows, and here Buchbinder opens with a slower than expected tempo in the Presto, which is to say a pretty conventional one. He keeps everything admirably clear, and the left hand playing bounces along nicely. Buchbinder has no time for a slow and ponderous Largo, but he does see fit to imbue it with tension and drama, never letting the music sag, and belting out forte chords. Sure, the climax could have been a bit louder, but it works splendidly as delivered. The Menuetto is more charming than expected, offering a nice contrast to the prior movement, while the Rondo is smooth and effortless and light. Superb.

Op 101 follows, offering a first glimpse into Buchbinder's late career view on the late sonatas. I don't know if I'd say that the Allegretto ma non troppo displays an especially inward looking aspect, nor is it really transcendent, but it is serene yet energized. The Vivace alla Marcia, certainly is vivacious and forward moving, but the dynamic contrasts are too contained, which seems like a recording artifact. One thing that's clear is that when right hand melody dominates, Buchbinder is in his element. In Adagio ma non troppo the playing takes on slower form of serenity to excellent effect, and the Allegro ends with clear, bright, elevated contrapuntal playing of both nice clarity and even nicer musical value. The sonata ends stronger than it starts. From heavy to light, Op 10/2 follows, and while Buchbinder does not weigh it down or make it sound anything other than fun, he manages to sort of remove it from the early period and play it more as a little brother to 31/3. That is, he comes closes to making it better than it is and he would have done so had he included the repeat in the Presto. Even in its truncated form, it's outstanding, one of the better ones I've heard in at least few years. Buchbinder plays Op 78 in a serious and swift manner, with less cantabile and more incisive playing in the first movement and a rollicking Allegro vivace. Buchbinder does a good job of hinting at humorous gruffness while sounding adequately refined. Next up is the last Op 31 sonata, or rather, the first. Buchbinder starts off with a quick and sternly fun Allegro vivace. He alternates emphasis between hands almost on a whim from the listener's standpoint, sometimes emphasizing the left hand a bit too much - until it's too melody-centered. Particularly ear-catching the three or four hundredth time around are a couple times where he'll accent one or two bass notes out of the blue. He plays the movement with so much enthusiasm and verve and wit, that the movement itself garners an ovation. The Adagio grazioso, at only 7'50", is super-swift, and the right hand runs sound positively delightful. (I'm sure I'm completely wrong, but Buchbinder dispatches them so well, that I can see him using these as practice exercises.) The trills could be sweeter, I guess, but that's the only potential beef in the outer sections. It might have been possible for Buchbinder to lighten up just a bit in the middle section, particularly with the too-pressed playing before the return of the opening material. But had he done that, the insistent rhythmic snap of the movement would not have been so insistent and catchy. Trade-offs. In contrast to the "slow" movement, Buchbinder backs off a bit in the Rondo, playing with deliberateness, though the overall tempo still cannot be described as slow at all. The playing speeds up a bit and while not overbearing, retains a somewhat serious demeanor pretty much throughout. To be clear, any reservations I have are of the inconsequential sort. Buchbinder delivers a superb Op 31 trio.

The second disc ends with the Hammerklavier. As in his earlier recordings, Buchbinder's overall approach is fairly swift at 38'-ish overall. He starts with a 10'24" Allegro, and in this version, as recorded, his playing assumes more of a late LvB sound than the middle period approach of his earlier recordings. He plays securely and keeps the piece moving forward at all times. Buchbinder then plays the Scherzo at a skippy 2'18", accelerating the pace. The Adagio falls on the fast end of the spectrum at only fifteen minutes, and as usual with such an approach, the music becomes more tense, and when it usually starts to sound desolate, Buchbinder actually speeds up a bit and makes the music sound almost angry and defiant. (He also seems to get lost for just a second, but he makes a fine recovery.) Only near the end of the movement does Buchbinder back off a bit, with the effect being one of exhaustion and resignation. Good stuff. The Largo sounds more like an Andante, with the pianist sounding as though he really just wants to get right to the fugue. He keeps it quick and formal and comparatively light. It's not baroque sounding, but one can hear the influence of the baroque in this classical take. Handel would have been pleased as much as Beethoven. While not the last word in clarity or executive brilliance, this nonetheless is the most satisfying, most late-LvB sounding of Buchbinder's recordings, though an A/B/C is needed to thoroughly workout qualitative differences. That's probably a post-2019 initiative. Another rock-solid disc.

The final disc opens with 2/2. Buchbinder's playing is direct, light, and unaffected, with just right tempo choices, unless one will not accept Largos that sound closer to Andantes. Op 14/1 follows, and here Buchbinder plays generally the same as in the preceding work, though maybe one could say that he pushes a bit too hard in some parts of the opening movement. Op 28 follows, and Buchbinder opens with an Allegro taken at a comfortable pace and an overall relaxed demeanor. The second melody displays a tenser sound, and Buchbinder's runs are just superb, and the climax sounds urgent without being overbearing. Buchbinder plays the Andante at an ever so slightly swift pace, and when paired with his beautifully even staccato left hand playing, it keeps things slightly tense, again without overdoing it, and the middle section is delightfully playful in a studious sort of way. The Scherzo is played very fast, to the point of sounding nearly jittery. But it works, yes it does. Buchbinder returns to a more flowing and lyrical approach in the Rondo, except for the middle section where he ramps up speed and dynamics to a satisfying degree and the dashed off coda. It's an outstanding take on the sonata, and one worthy of comparison to the best.

Next comes Op 90. Buchbinder goes for a quick opener, not lingering over any note or chord, playing the runs quickly, and to the extent he changes up the style in the movement, it is generally to make the playing either faster or angrier. This is one of the most biting and propulsive versions out there. The second movement, suitably slower, retains a small degree of edge to go with its essentially lyrical if somewhat somber sound. Another outstanding performance. Next comes Op 57. Given Buchbinder's playing to this point, I expected a fairly fast, strong, and possibly edgy performance. That's basically what I got, though the expected edginess didn't materialize, and in it's place was a comparative sense of grandeur. The Allegro assai has a nearly perfect blend of attributes, with only maximum dynamic contrasts missing, and that's due to the recording. Buchbinder imbues his playing with ample drive and fire, but he never uses exaggerated rubato; he prefers to push ahead. He keeps the Andante con moto at least taut and sometimes urgent yet pretty much always lyrical, then he plays the finale on the fast and nearly aggressive side, though again the somewhat less than ideal dynamics limit impact a bit. That caveat noted, this is an exceptionally good Appassionata. Buchbinder's style in this cycle also seems a good, if not great, fit for Op 22, and that's the case. He plays the piece with great energy and drive, but sometimes it sounds bit too serious, a bit too uncompromising, though in Beethoven that's rarely the worst type of interpretive choice to make. Op 49/2 finds Buchbinder lightening up a bit, with a charming Tempo di Menuetto.

The Pathetique follows. Buchbinder plays the Grave slow-ish and the Allegro fast and energetic, but his is a very classical approach, with no excess of any sort. The Adagio cantabile sounds attractive but contained, and the Rondo closes out with a nice mix of suitable energy and outstanding clarity of the left hand playing. Op 79 is straight-ahead and light almost to a fault in the first two movements - one might want a bit more out of the Andante for instance. Or then again, one might not. Buchbinder tosses in not a little charm in the Vivace, sweetly and humorously accenting some notes. The Waldstein starts with a swift Allegro con brio with notable rhythmic swagger and left hand clarity. The Introduzione is attractive and restrained and kind of cool, while the Rondo starts off restrained and attractive and only gradually builds up to faster playing, though Buchbinder never just plays fast to play fast, instead choosing and altering his tempi wisely while maintaining a nice overall tempo. This is an instance, with the Prestissimo portion, where one might reasonably expect faster playing than is on offer, but what is there works very well, indeed.

Buchbinder's cycle ends with the last three sonatas presented sequentially. Buchbinder opens with a light and elevated Vivace ma non troppo that does a fine job of establishing a transcendent soundworld, and it contrasts with a potent and relatively swift Adagio espressivo, and as the movement goes on, the sound becomes more ethereal and transcendent. The Prestissimo is potent but contained tempo-wise - not at all slow, just contained - and it keeps in the spirit of the opener. Once again, Buchbinder accents some bass notes to excellent effect, too. The final movement opens with a beautiful, serene Andante theme, and the first variation acts as an extension in a manner similar to Op 111. The third variation is quicker, of course, with the canon more intense than the first part of the variation, and the material combines into a wonderfully cohesive whole. The third variation is almost boogie-woogie-ish, pointing out the structural similarity between this as the variations of Op 111, and indeed as the fourth variation unfolds, this similarity becomes even more obvious. Again, Buchbinder knows when to emphasize left hand playing to superb effect. The fifth variation sounds suitably weighty and driven, and in the final variations he arrives early in Elysian Fields, with trills that would sound entirely at home in the last sonata, before arriving at the serene and lovely coda. This Op 109 offers a qualitative step up from Buchbinder's preceding two recordings.

Op 110 starts off gently and beautifully and transitions seamlessly to the more forceful exposition. As the movement proceeds, Buchbinder sounds close to perfect, and cedes little to any other pianist in my listening experience. The Allegro molto sounds similar to the second movement in Op 109 in that it sounds contained, and here almost idealized, an Apollonian musical utterance of great profundity. The final movement opens with a slow, dark, beautiful, and somber arioso, that sounds almost like a lament or a dirge. Buchbinder plays the fugue in a very slow and deliberate manner, but it works better than it should, almost sounding processional, or like a sketch from the Missa, with powerful forte playing. The second arioso sounds tonally like the first one, but now there's a sense of resignation and acceptance. The repeated chords sound ceremonial and don't really build up in volume in a truly satisfying way, but that ends up being the only minor complaint about the performance. The inverted fugue starts as slow as the fugue, but as it moves forward, the playing becomes faster and almost exultant, the coda rapturous - all within the bounds of an Apollonian approach. As with 109, this marks a qualitative step up from the prior two cycles.

Op 111 starts with a Maestoso that is dark and brooding, almost like 31/2 grown up and more refined, and the Allegro section, underpinned by strong bass playing, but not especially fast, sounds less ominous and more like a final angry musical pontification, but one laced with the knowledge that the learned pronouncements will immediately be forgotten. It's sublime fist shaking. The Arietta, which comes basically attacca, is suitably slow and serene, but it is not especially profound; it's more a musical bridge, at least in the first half. The second half finds Buchbinder slowing down slightly and bringin' the transcendence. The first variation does not act as an extension of the arietta, being both faster and more searching. The second variation sounds more vigorous yet, and unmistakably non-transcendent. The boogie-woogie variation, while not syncopated in a way to suggest proto-jazz, is fast and forward moving, almost recklessly so. The effect is better than that description implies. In the fourth, Buchbinder starts off rough and edgy, comparatively speaking, but soon cools down a bit, recognizing that the struggle is now over. The final destination is in sight. The playing becomes more rarified. The "little stars" sound gentle, caring, almost like a celestial lullaby. The chains of trills, perhaps not the most even in recorded history, possess a certain cutting sound that nonetheless manages to sound ethereal. Musical time seems to slow a bit as the movement progresses, and finally, after the final trills have ended, and the coda arrives, Elysian fields can be glimpsed. Superb. Unlike in the prior two cycles, the final trio ends up being one of the high points of the cycle, and maybe the high point. That's always a good thing.

While Buchbinder was in his late 60s when performing these recitals, turning off the video and just listening gives no real indication of that. Sure, there are a few slips, but these are real performances, so that's expected. Never once is there a moment where Buchbinder does not firmly control the music, and his overall energy level and seriousness of purpose make this a very fine cycle. I suppose one might be able to want a bit more nuance in a few places, and maybe slightly slower tempi here or there, or maybe some greater individuality, but then this cycle would not be what it is. I'd have to do extensive A/Bs to make sure, and maybe one day I will, but this one has left a more positive overall impression on me than his first cycle for Teldec, which in turn I found preferable to his second, RCA cycle. I certainly prefer this to the two Arrau cycles and Taub's cycle, which were the three listened to "immediately" before this one. At a minimum, this is a high third tier ranking. Hell, I'll just say it's second tier stuff. It's proper Beethoven.

The 24/48 sound is superb, though dynamics don't match some other live cycles of this century. The sound and the videography do not really match up - the sound is too "big" - so I largely listened with video off. The videography I did see is of the multi-camera sort, with (occasionally distracting) face shots, hand shots, and various other angles. Meh.



* It's still not clear whether Paul Badura-Skoda did in fact record a complete cycle for Westminster. If he did, that's the only one I've not heard from the three-timers club.




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Looks like I missed a cycle. I've not seen anyone else mention it yet, either, though maybe I missed relevant posts. Sebastian Forster's 2012 cycle is available at CD Baby as MP3 downloads for $60. (https://store.cdbaby.com/Search/U2ViYXN0aWFuIEZvcnN0ZXI=/0) Alternatively, it is one of over three dozen complete cycles available for streaming on Amazon Music. I've not checked other streaming services.
 
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Back when I first started in buying cycle after cycle, I stumbled upon the name Sequeira Costa. He had recorded a complete cycle, and I snooped for a box-set, but one was not available. Instead, at the time, one could order individual discs directly from the Vianna da Motta Foundation, which was run by Costa, who was a pupil of da Motta. (In turn, da Motta was a pupil of Liszt, meaning that Costa is only two steps removed from the greatest pianist of all time - which, in practical terms, means nothing.) I started off with volumes two and three, which between them included Opp 10, 13, 53, 57, and 90, giving a decent survey of Costa's style. I found the sound too resonant (especially in the second volume) and the performances sometimes too slow and not especially compelling, so I put off buying more, especially since the discs were premium price at the time. I figured I had plenty of time to buy. Then the foundation went kaput, and the remaining titles became sporadically available at the various Amazons, sometimes for above premium price. I was only moderately perturbed. I figured the cycle would be reissued by some firm, and if it was not, it probably wasn't the end of the world. It's not like it's Annie Fischer's cycle, or anything. Well, fast forward more than a decade, and Costa's cycle has indeed been reissued, at premium price. With a workaround. My classical recording collection has coincided largely with my audiophilia, and for years I wouldn't countenance the purchase of MP3s. Even modern 320 kbps MP3s sound inferior to CD-equivalent recordings, but the gap has narrowed, and my insistence on listening to only CD-quality or better digital recordings has waned, especially as it pertains to obscure repertoire and recordings. The one last thing that was needed was a "successful" experience with MP3 recordings, and Musical Concepts provided two: the Colorado Quartet's Beethoven string quartet cycle, and Robert Taub's Beethoven piano sonata cycle, both of which cost just a buck. The Taub was especially important in the context of piano sonata collecting. The fourth tier cycle demonstrated that for my purposes, MP3 is good enough in the cases of less than ideal recordings. That settled, that meant that I would be able to buy the remaining eight volumes of Costa's cycles as MP3 downloads for about half the price as discs. I first ordered volume seven, with the critical Op 31 sonatas, listened a bit, compared it to volumes two and three, and concluded immediately that I would proceed. Lengthy preamble aside, it was time to listen to the whole cycle.

I started with volume one, which contains the first three sonatas. Costa plays the Allegro of 2/1 in a fairly conventional manner, with a peppy tempo, effective and not overdone accents, a bit of personal rubato, and if not romantic style, then a sort of heightened classicism. In the Adagio, Costa plays with a touch more heightened classicism, and his playing is quite appealing, with really great clarity of voices, where it is possible to follow any part with ease or jump around. The Menuetto is restrained in the outer sections, but not slow, and the middle section is quite lovely. The sonata ends with a repeatless Prestissimo characterized more by drama and nice dynamic contrasts, and a bit of congestion, than high speed, but it succeeds. 2/2 starts with an Allegro vivace marked by a somewhat comfortable tempo and a sense of restrained playfulness, or at the very least, no undue gravity. Costa plays the Largo at a very sensible but very slightly quick tempo, imparting a bit more drama into the proceedings, with hints of rubato and accents, until he pounds out the forte chords with some real oomph. The Scherzo is light-ish fun, with subtle rubato and good use of sort of subtly terraced dynamics, and Costa again demonstrates how to play on the slightly broad side without harming the music in the least. In the Rondo, Costa takes the grazioso designation seriously, and when that combines with the clarity of voices and flowing tempo, the sonata ends on a sunny note. The opening of 2/3 is slow and a bit labored, but the second theme ends up flowing a bit better. Overall, the 11'37" timing and some kludgy passages don't work especially well. The Adagio is quite slow, and here Costa ups his game, playing the second theme with a nuanced and quiet and concentrated sound. When he belts out the big forte chords, the effect is bracing, and the movement jells. The Scherzo is standard in conception and execution, to good effect. Given the slow opening movement, I expected something similar with the Allegro assai, and while not especially speedy, it is not too slow or heavy or cumbersome, though it's not the last word in energy, either.

Volume two starts off with Op 53. Costa takes his time in the 11'41" Allegro con brio, and the opening passage is both slow and not quite pianissimo, or at least the less than SOTA sound for the time (this is from CD) compresses dynamics, which is reinforced by the lack of sufficiently powerful forte playing. The opening movement ends up sounding too slow and anemic for my taste, and the playing doesn't sound super secure even at this tempo. The Introduzione is fairly standard in conception and execution, with Costa doing a good job creating a contemplative, resigned sound. The Rondo opens with a lovely melody, with slightly improved quiet playing, but the overall tempo is again a bit too broad to generate much excitement or energy, and the fortissimo playing is constrained. In the central section, Costa plays the left hand octaves with steady insistence as the right hand playing swirls nicely, but it sounds a bit stilted. The playing just before the coda, with some attractive trills, sounds nice, and the coda has nice heft to it, with the last two chords played sort of diminuendo. So, some good things and some not so good things. Op 57 starts with a slow Allegro assai that clocks in at 10'43", and while that means ultimate intensity and drive are lacking, Costa offers a grandly conceived, weighty, inevitable approach instead, culminating in a fast and powerful coda. Costa plays Andante con moto more swiftly and with more tension than one would assume from the opener, to excellent effect, and then plays the Allegro ma non troppo with a speedier sense of inevitability and drive. Costa's tempo is a bit broad, and the dynamics limited, somewhat blunting the effect, but the movement and the sonata as a whole are both very good. The opening movement of Op 90 alternates between sufficiently tense and biting playing characterized by suitably strong accenting and faster passages that sound a bit unclear. The second movement is reasonably lyrical, though the occasionally stiff left hand playing prevents full realization of that trait. On the other hand, Costa's left hand accents are ear-catching in a unique manner, so it's sort of a wash. Very good overall.

Volume three contains the Op 10 trio and Op 13. 10/1 starts with a moderately swift, sort of galloping ascending arpeggio at the beginning of the Allegro molto e con brio. The second theme is taken at a comfortable pace, almost sounding pastoral, though Costa plays with more intensity in the recapitulation. The Adagio is taken at a comfortable pace, with Costa lavishing attention on individual notes and phrases, and he plays the big rolled chord in an almost strummed fashion. In keeping with the prior two movements, the Prestissimo is a bit on the slow side (Presto, or maybe even Allegro when compared to some others), and while it may not be especially high energy, it moves forward with a sort of inevitability. 10/2 starts with an Allegro that is not especially swift, is kind of heavy, though Costa's playing is clear, but it is certainly jolly. The Menuetto, again quite broad, seems to move into middle LvB territory while never sounding too heavy. Nice. The repeatless (boo!) Presto is a bit slow, as well, but has a jolly enough demeanor, too. Op 10/3 starts off with a Presto that is predictably on the slightly broad side, but it flows well from start to finish, with some deceptively well done small dynamic variations. The Largo, while properly slow, contains hints of tension and foreboding and maybe even sorrow as it unfolds. Costa generates enough power in the first cluster of forte chords, but even better, his melody playing before and after is held back and sounds searching. While the climax isn't the hardest hitting one out there, it ends up sounding nicely dramatic. The Menuetto is leisurely and lyrical in the outer sections and a bit more energetic in the middle section. In the Rondo, Costa seems intent on shaking any last vestiges of drama remaining from the Largo, with lovely playing in the outer sections, and boisterous playing in the middle section. In Op 13, Costa starts the Grave with a dramatically shortened opening chord, a device he uses repeatedly. It doesn't really add drama so much as it sounds odd. The Allegro is a bit slow overall, but moves along decently enough. The Adagio cantabile is heavy on the cantabile playing and relaxed, though the bass playing has an attractive insistence to its sound. The concluding Rondo keeps with Costa's more relaxed tempo approach, but works pretty well. A somewhat mixed disc. Sound is better for volume three than the preceding two volumes.

Volume four opens with Op 7. Costa plays the Allegro molto e con brio at a slow 9'48". The dotted rhythm is not ideally steady, and some of the right hand playing is blurred, with an audible slip about 2'20"-ish or so in, or so it seems until the exact thing happens at about 5'15" in. Costa does, though, play with a nice degree of dynamic contrast, and belts out some of the forte music nicely. The Largo, with intermittent bird accompaniment (the MP3 allows for ample detail), is slow and dramatic and meets the espressione designation nicely. Some of the slightly stilted, exaggerated left hand playing actually adds to the effect, and the potent right hand playing, with one passage applying equal weight to every note, is especially nice. Costa keeps things leisurely with the Allegro, which nonetheless displays adequate drama, and the middle section, with blurred left hand playing aided by pedal riding, is stormy-ish. A leisurely Rondo ends a leisurely take on the sonata. Costa plays with no little amount of loveliness for most of the movement, the nicely stormy middle section properly aside. Overall, pretty nice, but the opening movement is just too slow. The disc then moves on to the two Op 14 sonatas. The Allegro of 14/1, again on the broad side, manages to convey a sense of lightness while sounding weighty, and Costa keeps it moving forward. Both the Allegretto and Rondo maintain the same sort of lightly heavy sound, and flow very nicely, even if the playing isn't what one could call energetic. Op 14/2 starts with a lovely, light, and lyrical Allegro, with the middle section characterized by more drive and some really superb clarity of voices. The Andante is likewise superb. The theme is almost march-like, but fun, the variations even more so. (The playing makes me think a Diabelli from Costa could be quite good.) The Scherzo is just delightful in every way. Fun, witty, light, with some perfectly exaggerated slow yet jokey playing, it caps off a great rendition of the work, one that stands with the best.

Volume five has four works, the consecutive Opp 26 and 27, and then the Les Adieux. The disc opens with Op 26. Here's a case where Costa's slow, deliberate approach works rather well. The theme is attractive and measured, and Costa's penchant for slowness allows him to create more tempo contrasts than expected when he does play fast, or at least reasonably so. His dynamic contrast and accents are all well-judged, and his rhythm in the faster sections is quite fine. And the whole thing flows and jells. The Scherzo is just as good, with the slightly broad overall tempo allowing for more variation within the movement, along with solid rhythm. Costa keeps the funeral march comparatively small scale and tense to start. He never builds up the piece to truly large scale, but as he builds to the middle section, the playing becomes more heroic, and the middle is filled with some grander gestures, and the final section builds up to a nice climax filled with ample power and grandeur. The Allegro starts off rather slow, but picks up a bit, though it never becomes a true powerhouse or speedy movement. That written, it fits the overall conception perfectly, and this is one of the strongest sonatas in the cycle. Op 27/2 starts, and Costa offers a stylistic surprise: gone is slow playing, and in its place is fast playing, with the Andante dispatched in a quick, and light-ish, indeed almost playful, manner, though the slower style returns in the very deliberate Allegro, which sounds slower than the Andante. The Allegro molto e vivace thickens up the textures and slows down the playing even more. It's not bad, and it has that slow-motion inevitability of some of Costa's other playing, but it's unusual to hear this portion of the sonata slowed so much. The Adagio is really quite fine in every regard, while the concluding Rondo is faster and more energetic, but vivace could be pushing it, though the coda is quite nice. A mixed bag, with Costa starting off one way before reverting to his more standard approach. It's not ideally successful here. Der Mondschein seemed like a better fit for Costa's style before listening to it, and sure enough, it is. Costa plays the Adagio sostenuto at a steady tempo and with a cool mien, with some judicious una corda use that brings out some nice effects. The Allegretto is slow and steady, with firm but not overdone accents. The Presto agitato is slow overall, kind of robbing the music of impact, but the left hand playing is sometimes unusually prominent, in a rolling thunder kind of way. Even with the slow overall tempo, the playing has forward momentum. A good but not great recording. The disc closes with Op 81/a. Predictably, Costa starts off with a broad tempo, and also predictably it works well for about the first couple minutes before the playing sounds kind of stodgy, but such passages are rare, and the overall effect of Costa's style is one of both grand romanticism and restraint, strangely enough. The slow movement carries on with the restrained romanticism, with a wonderfully gentle transition to the final movement, which is higher speed and higher energy than anticipated, with a nice celebratory feel, and a nice combination of an insistent bass line underpinning melodic flights of fancy. A solid end to a disc with a great opener.

Volume six starts off with Op 22. Costa plays the opening Allegro con brio at a slow pace, rendering the melody alternatively stodgy and beautifully lyrical. The bass line is steadier and more appealing, and the middle section, though slower than normal, offers a nice contrast, but ultimately the playing is just too slow. The Adagio is slower yet, as it should be, and here Costa's playing works better. The playing has a somewhat languid, romantic feel about it, sounding almost like a fantasy. Costa's handling of the bass, especially some emphatic yet contained repeated notes, is most appealing. The Minuetto, keeping with the slow overall approach, sounds beautiful while Costa plays quietly, but a bit gruffer when he plays louder, and the trio section has a sort of unstoppable slow-motion feel to it. Costa closes the sonata out with a slow Rondo, with only the middle section having any real pep. I tend to prefer faster, more energetic, more classical versions of this sonata, but fans of slow versions may find a lot to like here. The two Op 49 sonatas follow. Both of them are characterized by slightly broad tempi and melody-centric playing. They are both quite delightful, and Costa gets quite a bit out of them. They're really solid. Op 28 closes the disc. Costa plays the Allegro at a very Largo-esque 12'02". He keeps everything slow, with even the second theme sounding more like an Andante. Somehow, Costa manages to hold the music together as a coherent whole, but it sounds enervated, the more intense, though still not especially speedy, climax excepted. The Andante sounds faster and more potent than the opening movement, and then Costa reverts to slower than normal playing in the Scherzo. Finally, in the Rondo, Costa plays with a more standard tempo and more flowing style that for the most part sounds just lovely. The Op 49 sonatas are the highlight here.

Volume seven contains the critical Op 31 trio. I prefer this type of presentation of these sonatas. Costa starts 31/1 with a slightly slow Allegro vivace, but it displays hints of mischievousness in the purposely loud bass notes, which sound even more effective when Costa plays the right hand passages with not a little attractiveness and the left hand can't seem to keep up and seems to inhabit another musical space. Costa's take on the Adagio grazioso is very slow at 11'19", but he manages to play slow trills while keeping a steady bass line, which works well, and some of the right hand runs are nicely fast. As the movement progresses, it is hard not to notice that some of the bass playing is accented haphazardly, or rather, that's the musical effect. There's no way the playing is unintentional. The middle section, complete with clacking fingernails, manages to sound faster than its slow basic tempo would imply, and Costa also imbues it with nice levels of energy that do not set it apart from the rest of the movement. The return of the opening material is slight more emphatic and exaggerated than the first pass. The Rondo, again slow, is uncommonly beautiful and relaxed, and though not playful in the more typical sense, it is light. As expected at this point, Der Sturm starts with a slow Largo, and an even slower Allegro, in relative terms. While the playing lacks the power and drive of better versions, Costa displays impressive independence of hands, and the at times stark dynamic contrast between potent bass notes and quieter middle and upper register playing is most intriguing. It is a slow motion musical dissection a la Celibidache, but moved to eighty-eight keys. It is not without its appeal. There's not much in the way of tempestuousness or plain old robustness, but it doesn't truly matter, if one accepts this as an alternative style approach. The Adagio reinforces this. It is slow, of course, stretched out, romanticized, perhaps with hints of Russianness (the good, musical type, not the bad, colluding type). Costa plays with a bit more speed and intensity in the Allegretto, making for a nice ending movement. Unsurprisingly, Costa keeps things slow in 31/3. That can never work as well in this sonata. While it is easy enough to appreciate the clarity of individual notes in some passages, the sense of fun and playfulness, or slightly harsher mischievousness, is pretty much absent in the Allegro. The Scherzo is also just too slow to extract maximum energy, though the outbursts possess enough oomph. Just as unsurprising as Costa's use of slow tempi, the Menuetto comes off quite well, sounding subdued and lovely. The Presto con fuoco has a bit more pep, with Costa sounding like he enjoys playing the music. It's a strong ending to a nice version that is nonetheless not what I would call a top forty hit. The critical trio fares respectably well overall, but the playing is not of a quality to assure first or second tier status.

Volume eight starts with Op 54. Costa plays the first theme slowly and richly, and he also plays the triplets theme slow, and while I prefer speedier renditions of this music, Costa's playing sound uncommonly weighty and broadly scaled, sort of transforming the work into something of a late-LvB sonata, which works surprisingly well. The Allegretto follows a similar pattern, and while reasonably successful, it ultimately lacks enough drive. Op 78 follows, and once again Costa plays a bit slowly, but once again it adds a bit of weight to the proceedings, and the Allegro ma non troppo more does not fall outside interpretive norms. The Allegro vivace sounds way too lumbering, though. Op 79 starts with a Presto alla tedesca that, while not lumbering, doesn't seem Presto. Costa manages to play with enough dynamic contrast, including an at times undulating left hand, to make it work decently well. The Andante opens and closes with tense, weighty playing, but sounds simply beautiful and lyrical playing in the middle section. The Vivace closer is a tad slow, but fortunately it mostly just sounds relaxed and fun as a result. The disc closes with Op 101. The tempo of the first movement can be described as "just right", and if it lacks the last word in late-LvB sound, it sounds more elevated than the preceding works, and it also possesses excellent clarity and dramatic, but not overly dramatic, dynamic contrasts. The march is a bit slow, but the bass playing is weighty, and Costa lets some chords ring out nicely, and one hears a little bit of discreet vocalizing. The Adagio finds Costa playing with a proper, transcendent sound and his slow tempo really works well here. The transition to the fugal music is slow and deliberate, while the concluding movement comes mighty close to a "just right" tempo. I could have used a bit more speed and drive, but what Costa delivers works well on its own terms. So a solid close and a proper introduction to the late sonatas. (The recording has some digital artifacts/noise/data errors a few times, though I'm not sure if that is from the original, or from the MP3 conversion process.)

Volume nine is given over to but one work: one of the longest extant recordings of Op 106. Tipping the scales at over fifty-one minutes (!), this is one long slog. Slow Hammerklaviers can work - witness Eschenbach and Chauzu - but typically, I prefer speedier approaches. The opening Allegro take 14'09". So, yes, it is slow start to finish. To his credit, Costa's playing doesn't sound lumbering. His conception is (quasi-) orchestral, making the music sound grander than it usually does. It is an echt-romantic style. As with Chauzu, the extra slow tempo allows for Costa to tease out details, even if the musical line is occasionally stretched way out. Costa's playing sounds a bit more brittle and pointed, too, though Chauzu loves to ride the sustain in comparison. The Scherzo, at 3'16", is also slow, but less dramatically so, and it is scaled down a bit, too, but it fits right in with Costa's conception, and has a bit of rhythmic swagger in parts. The Adagio is more normal in terms of slowness at nineteen minutes even, and it more or less falls in line with most slow takes on the movement, starting off dark and despondent, maybe a little desperate. Costa keeps a pretty steady overall pulse as the piece progresses. The tone of the playing becomes colder and more distant, and the slow tempo also translates into utter clarity of voices. The final movement comes in at a super long fifteen minutes even. The Largo sounds slow and subdued, though nothing especially out of the ordinary - indeed, it's quite attractive and effective with potent playing before the main attraction - but the fugue is slow, slow, slow. Ain't nothin' Allegro about it. Adagio is more like it. This allows Costa to maintain his focus on clarity, and perhaps to play it at all. I get the sense of some strain even with what is on offer, but even so, once the ear adjusts to what Costa does, it works rather well. No, this is not a first choice, but among distended 106s, it works abut as well as Eschenbach and Chauzu. Color me pleasantly surprised.

The final volume has the last three sonatas. Costa starts off 109 with a quick Vivace ma non troppo played with a sort of light staccato at the start, but then he blends in some legato playing, and he mixes a sort of transcendent style and a harder-hitting style, with bright and slightly hard right hand playing thereafter. It's almost a sacred-profane blend, and it works well, as does the very slightly broad tempo. The Prestissimo is very slow and very labored, with each note, chord, and arpeggio emphasized. Costa then plays the Andante theme of the final movement at a fairly brisk clip, and if not especially transcendent, it does sound lovely, as does the first variation. The second starts off more pointed, but softens as it moves along, and the third is a bit slow but effectively powerful. The fourth variation is suitably transcendent, with some more slow-ish and powerful playing. Costa really revs things up in the fifth variation, sort of making the listener wonder why he didn't play the Prestissimo at a similar tempo, and then ends with an attractive restatement of the theme in the final variation. Op 110 starts off sounding lyrical, but then transitions to quick, pointed, bright playing (and/or the recording sounds bright, but not in a bad way). Costa creates more of a middle period sound, or maybe just a slightly more angst-ridden one. The beautiful playing sounds like something of a respite from the music surrounding it. In the Allegro molto Costa plays a middle of the road speed, but his forte playing is powerful and hard, his accents jarring, his drive impressive. Very nice. The start of the last movement retains some of the tense feeling of the music that came before, but quickly settles into a more subdued style, only to have the right hand playing ring out tensely again, a feeling which never really dissipates through the rest of the first arioso. Costa plays the first fugue slowly, deliberately, and quite clearly, with a sort of cold detachment, and then he just pummels the piano with fortissimo playing allowing some steel to emerge. The second arioso again sounds tense, and the repeated chords are angrily played, clipped more than other version I've heard, and though they build up in volume, they never even come close to the fortissimo thunder in the fugue. The inverted fugue starts off quick and tetchy rather than cold and detached, and has some more potent playing later on, and it ends with crashing playing in a thundered out coda. This is certainly a non-standard take on the work, and works very well on its own terms. Given such intense playing in the penultimate sonata, hopes for a fiery and aggressive open to the last one seemed reasonable. They panned out. Costa starts plays the Maestoso with darkness and bite, and the Allegro keeps that up, though the playing also marks a return to slower tempi. Even so, the heft wins out, resulting in a superb opening movement. Costa starts off with an attractive but slightly pressed Arietta in the second movement, but then slows down and cools off markedly in the second half, creating more of a transcendent sound. Costa plays the first variation with a sense of tension similar to his playing in 110, and though the second variation starts slower and more elevated, it, too, reverts to that style more than normal. The boogie-woogie variation is a bit slow, without great rhythmic verve, but it does have nice dynamic swings. The playing after slows down more, with some pronounced left hand playing. The "little stars" are slow and deliberate but effective, moving the music into a more transcendent soundworld. The chains of trills is played more slowly than any I recall, and as the lengthy movement proceeds, it sort of takes on the "slow is profound" approach, sort of diminishing the impact of the first part of the movement. That written, it still works well, the last couple minutes are elevated, and the coda is serene.

When I first endeavored to listen to Costa's complete set, I had predetermined, based on foggy memories of the second and third volumes, that this would be a fourth tier cycle, but something changed while I listened. There's no doubt whatsoever that this cycle is not a first or second tier cycle for me, but it ended up being better than expected overall. Costa's penchant for slow tempi, somewhat reminiscent of Arrau's, serves his interpretive purposes nicely. While some sonatas don't work especially well with Costa's approach, some are noteworthy. Op 14/2 is flat out great. Op 26, too. The Op 49 works are both superb, making more of the works than normal. Op 106 is much better than anticipated, especially given its length. And Op 110, in something of an alternative approach, also works very well. So the cycle has its strengths, and they can be formidable. Into the third tier it goes. Sound is variable, sometimes too resonant, but sometimes just fine. The MP3 files purportedly have 24 bit depth, though the source material is 16 bit, and they are still MP3s. Still, for my purposes, sound more than sufficed in the eight MP3 volumes.


Volume 1

Volume 2

Volume 3

Volume 4

Volume 5

Volume 6

Volume 7

Volume 8

Volume 9

Volume 10
 
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Three new cycles have been unearthed:

1.) John Kane (http://www.mykeynoterecords.com/), amateur pianist and student of John Browning, released a cycle in October of last year. It is one of his "Homemade" recording projects, meaning literally that he recorded the sonatas at home. He has also recorded a good amount of other core rep. He uploaded his Mozart sonata cycle to YouTube.

2.) Welsh pianist Llŷr Williams has a 12 CD box set of the sonatas and other solo works coming out in March on the Signum label. https://crosseyedpianist.com/2017/1...ease-12-cd-box-set-of-beethovens-piano-music/

3.) Japanese born, American domiciled pianist Tamami Honma has a complete cycle slated for release on the Divine Arts label, the same label that produced the very fine complete Szymanowski cycle by Sinae Lee.
 
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For years, I perused the sites of various Japanese vendors, looking for new copies of all nine volumes of Kazune Shimizu's complete Beethoven piano sonata cycle on Sony. I could never find all nine. Used copies were available, but only at prices I thought unwholesome for used discs, so I didn't buy. I was beginning to think I'd either never get to hear the cycle, or I might have to wait until one of the upcoming anniversary years. Then a generous benefactor beneficently bestowed a copy on me, so one little dream came true. I could listen to the cycle. So I did.


Shimizu's cycle, like quite a few others, opens with Sonata Number One. Shimizu's take is classical and often light. The Allegro is mostly light, with only a few potent outbursts, notably in the coda, while the Adagio is surprisingly light and lyrical. The Menuetto is too reserved to start, and though it picks up near the end, it never really has a lot of oomph, while the Prestissimo possesses sufficient drive and middle register heft but not really enough weight overall. A good opener, but not top thirty stuff. Op 27/1 follows. Shimizu keeps it light and bright and flowing to start, but in the Allegro section, the sustain pedal goes down and the volume goes up, led by the left hand, creating a punchy effect. The Scherzo alternates between a smooth and flowing sound and a punchy sound, too, with snappy rhythm in the trio. The Adagio con espressione displays some gentle but not especially touching playing, and ends on a slow fade while Shimizu launches right into the Allegro vivace with vibrant high speed playing punctuated by hefty chords, while the final return of the slow material is very measured and nearly hypnotic, and the coda is Prestissimo fast. Superb. Op 13 follows, and Shimizu opts for a near-thundering start in the Grave and a high-speed, high-energy, but somewhat dynamically constrained Allegro section. (Man, that right hand playing sizzles!) The Adagio cantabile is a bit swift, and while Shimizu plays beautifully, the playing also sounds emotionally reticent. Which is just fine. The Rondo is fleet and Shimizu again displays superb dexterity, but the playing sounds somewhat contained again, very classical in presentation. Still, superb. Op 110 closes the disc. Shimizu starts the swift overall Moderato cantabile molto espressivo (6'15") with some gentle, lovely playing that doesn't sound rushed at all, and then he speeds up significantly in the transition. The tempo contrasts end up being at least as noticeable as the dynamic contrasts, and keeps the playing from attaining the level of late-LvB sound I generally prefer. One minor quibble has to do with the left hand playing, which, while potent and obviously audible throughout, sounds a bit muddy. (Has DM Lim spoiled my ears?) The Allegro molto is molto indeed, with Shimizu playing very fast and hammering out most of the music. It's a bucket of cold water in the face, musically speaking. Shimizu sounds almost like a different pianist in the opening of the last movement, and the solemn and transcendent first arioso, which only gradually picks up pace and urgency. The fugue remains very clear throughout with Shimizu starting softly and gradually building up to a massive sound. I always enjoy hearing a steady, slow(-ish) tempo maintained while only volume markedly increases. The transition to the second arioso is like the musical equivalent to a big rig firing its brakes, while the arioso itself sound much tenser than the first go-round. The repeated chords go from satisfyingly quiet to Anderszewski-level loud (though not so tonally lustrous) to superb effect, and the inverted fugue does the whole clear, slow burn thing again, culminating in a fast, hard climax and dashed off coda. Overall, a most excellent disc one.


The second volume opens with the second sonata. Shimizu plays it fast and peppy in the repeatless Allegro vivace, slow and modestly expressive at the start of the Largo, but as time goes on, it sort of displays some austere solemnity. The Scherzo is playful and crisp in the outer sections, with hints of restrained urgency in the trio, while the Rondo is lovely, flowing, and delightfully peppy except for the very stormy, within classical confines, middle section. Op 14/1 follows, and Shimizu opts to play the Allegro fast overall, and very fast in the ascending passages. The playing sounds almost jittery, but it never goes overboard. Shimizu's style stays quite similar in the Allegretto and the Rondo, pushing the latter much the same way he pushed the first movement. The disc then jumps to Op 90. In the first movement, Shimizu plays fast and imbues much of his right hand playing with an edge more than hinting at anger or despair, the forte passages with heft, and the long right hand run with a sense of urgency. The second movement is generally lyrical, and good enough to make one wonder what Shimizu might do with earlier Schubert sonatas, but he also plays with some residual bite at times, and there are hints of late LvB goodness, too. The disc closes with Op 101. The opening Allegretto ma non troppo sort of takes the hints contained in Op 90 and makes them the interpretive focus, with Shimizu getting the sound right, while still making sure to play with clarity and, when need, the right degree of heft. In the march, Shimizu focuses on delivering ample weight and potent accents at a reasonable speed. The Adagio ma non troppo manages to sound just slow enough and just longing enough, and just desolate enough for a brief period about halfway through, to fit comfortably in the late LvB soundworld, and the final movement starts with fast and bright trills before launching into fast and bright playing of the fugal material that sounds almost like supercharged baroque playing. The playing sort of loses its late LvB quality as a result, but it's a refreshing take sure to leave the listener more awake and alert when it ends.


Volume three starts off with Op 78. The Adagio cantabile is fairly mellow and lovely, while the Allegro ma non troppo section adds a bit of energy and playfulness to the mix. It's kind of chill. The Allegro vivace ramps up the speed and fun. An excellent start. Given Shimizu's style to this point, I expected the Allegro molto e con brio of Op 7 to be of the super-fast variety, but it turns out to be of the leisurely but still nicely swift and flowing variety, with plenty left hand oomph. Shimizu keeps the rhythm bouncing, brings a slight bit of drama here and there, but generally keeps it light and youthful. The Largo sounds a bit quick and tense, and the big tolling bass notes have adequate impact, while the repeated three note right arpeggios are cute, but in a good way. Shimizu keeps the drama contained relative to some other versions, which fits in with his approach. The Allegro is quick, with Shimizu playing passages in an almost start-stop fashion with very brief pauses. It still works just fine, and the trio sounds sort of italicized, with a lightly rumbling bass line. The Rondo ends with swift, spritely playing, with hints of urgency in the middle section. Superb. Next up, Op 22. Now this starts with a very fast Allegro con brio characterized first by a light, playful sound, then by beefy, fast forte playing, and in the middle section, Shimizu just speeds up a bit more. It's sort of one-trick, or maybe one-and-a-half tricks, but it works. The Adagio is just a bit quick, but more than a bit songful in the opening and retains it more or less throughout. The Menuetto sounds lovely and lively in the other sections, and fiery but controlled in the middle section, and the Rondo is light fun and energized as though maybe Shimizu had quickly downed a half dozen shots of espresso before starting the movement. This is not a reading for those wanting a more leisurely, flowing reading. The disc ends with Op 81a. Shimizu holds back in the introduction of the first movement, creating a sense of resignation, then plays with more celebratory abandon. Some of the left hand playing is accented just so, to good effect. The second movement remains taut and tense, with some nice forte playing approximating controlled emotional outbursts, and then finally, the Vivacissimamente is quick, cleanly articulated, with ample bass weight and a celebratory feel. Shimizu never goes for anything outlandish in terms of dynamics or rubato, so the playing remains quite classical in nature.


Volume four starts off with a quick, light, and tuneful Op 49/2, with Shimizu's quickness in the Tempo di Menuetto a purely classical delight. Op 10/3 follows. The Presto is a delight, dashed off with verve and precision, and more than ample strength when needed. Shimizu plays the Largo slow and somber, with early hints of drama, with loud forte playing, and some nicely tense quieter playing. The only downside of his approach is that given how powerfully he plays earlier forte passages, the climax sounds less imposing, though the playing speeds up just the right amount. The Menuetto offers a nice contrast in the outer sections, with the trio dashed off with lots of left hand oomph and admirably clean playing. The Rondo is nice and peppy, with Shimizu again displaying some mighty fine left hand playing. The disc ends with Op 106. Shimizu plays slower than hoped at 10'23", but he manages to infuse the music with ample forward drive and energy and scale. But it lacks the snap that most of his performances to this point bring. Within its performance parameters, it is excellent, I guess I just wanted even more. The Scherzo follows suit, being somewhat more standard in timing than expected, though it is likewise excellent. The Adagio comes in at a middle of the road 18'31", and here Shimizu starts off with a slow but flowing tempo and a solemn sound, with not a little beautiful right hand playing. As the playing becomes slower and more subdued, it doesn't become especially desolate. Throughout, Shimizu's left hand playing is remarkably steady and clear without once sound overbearing. It is about halfway through that the style and even tempi of the opening two movements sort of jell to make a most handsome whole. Shimizu's playing also becomes more dramatic and intense, but he never sustains such passages too long. The final movement starts with a conventional enough Largo, but then launches into one of the fastest, most exciting fugues I’ve heard. It is dazzling and nearly breathless in its delivery, some delightfully rumbly bass before the coda, and a hammered out coda of no little excitement.


Volume five opens with Op 14/2. Shimizu plays it with a quick-ish overall tempo, a generally light touch in the Allegro, though he plays with ample power when called for and his digital dexterity is unassailable. The Andante theme and variations stays quick, alert, and generally playful, with a nicely bold fortissimo chord to end it, and the Scherzo keeps the same feel. Op 2/3 follows. Shimizu plays the Allegro con brio in a properly speedy manner, dashing it off in 9'38", meaning the playing takes on a sort of frantic sound, though it is always controlled and energetic. Nice. The Adagio remains fairly taut in the opening, with Shimizu playing with a nice degree of restraint, even in the second theme, where he holds back on the tolling bass notes, though later on Shimizu wails on the keys to nice effect. The overall feel of the movement borders on the bland, though. The Scherzo is plucky, with very clear voicing in the outer sections, and a punchy and fast trio. The Rondo finds Shimizu playing with something approaching the frantic style of the opening movement, but it is so energetic and clean and fun that it makes for the just right virtuosic closing movement. Op 79 is up next, and Shimizu keeps with the quick and light approach, sensibly enough, in the Presto alla tedesca, but then he switches gears dramatically in the slow, touching, and lyrical Andante, before switching back to light and fun playing in the Vivace. The Waldstein closes the disc. Shimizu starts the Allegro con brio slower than expected with kind-of-loud-for-pianissimo chords, then switches to faster, more powerful playing that, as with the repeated chords, sort of has a bopping rhythm. He plays the movement fast, but not too much so, and he really plays up dynamic contrasts nicely and knows exactly when to back off on the tempo, and by how much. The Introduzione is suitably slow and introspective, while the Rondo really takes off after the trills, with swelling dynamics and very fast playing of no little excitement. Too, Shimizu sees fit to use some nice pauses for effect in places, and generally delivers a rousing final movement.


Volume six opens with Op 10/2. Shimizu plays the Allegro with just right amounts of speed, energy, and youthful fun, moves to a Menuetto that is fairly straightforward, and concludes with a nicely peppy, if unfortunately repeatless, Presto. Op 26 follows. The Andante theme is a bit brisk, but attractive, and the variations more or less follow suit. One neat feature is Shimizu's well-judged forte left hand playing, adding real weight and scale. The Scherzo is zippy and potent. The funeral march slows things down, but it's hardly slow. It's also comparatively subdued dynamically and a bit tense. By starting off somewhat subdued, Shimizu allows himself some nice and contrast-y outbursts, though he largely keeps the movement contained. The concluding Allegro returns to fast and potent playing evident in the Scherzo. Overall, excellent, though I could have done with a weightier funeral march. Op 10/1 follows, exploding into being, with high-speed ascending arpeggios, moving to very fast and energetic playing thereafter. The Adagio is more restrained, even if it sounds Andante-ish, quite attractive, and it flows along nicely. The Prestissimo closer is predictably swift and energetic overall, with Shimizu's right hand playing delightfully clean and clear. Outstanding. The disc closes with Op 57. Shimizu holds back in the opening bars of the Allegro assai, and then at just shy of forty seconds in, he unloads, ramping up power and speed, then backing off, playing jittery repeated notes, and maintaining a tense sound, backing off a bit, and then repeating the whole process. The Andante con moto brings the energy and excitement level down a bit, allowing for a sort of cooling off, but even so, it is quick and tense. The Allegro ma non troppo is predictably very speedy and energetic, rushing forward, with superb fingerwork, superb dynamics, and oodles of energy. This Appassionata brings to mind Seymour Lipkin's. It's a fast and punchy middleweight version, though Shimizu's playing is more refined and cleaner than Lipkin's. Good stuff.


Volume seven starts with Op 49/1, which, like the second of the set, is a classical miniature, with nothing too heavy done to it. The Pastorale follows. Shimizu plays the first theme with a generally steady tempo and nice lyrical sound, with the bass line insistent but not overbearing. He then builds up to a satisfying but not thundering climax; the imperative seems to keep things classically proportioned. In something of an unexpected development, Shimizu plays the Andante notably slower than normal. The playing is fine, but it doesn't really work. The Scherzo is also a bit more restrained tempo-wise than expected, but it is more in line with most recordings and Shimizu's overall style, and the rhythmic sureness and dynamic contrasts work just swell. The Rondo more or less flows along nicely, with Shimizu also making sure to play with both satisfying power in forte passages, and especially in the middle section, and some playfulness in some quieter right hand passages, and impressive digital dexterity in the coda. The sonata is three-fourths very good. Next up, one of the critical middle trio, namely 31/1. Shimizu starts with a quick and dynamically varied Allegro vivace. There's no doubting Shimizu's ability to play the music, but the playing is more of the serious sort rather than the playful sort, which is just fine. Who doesn't want some slap in the face fortissimo playing in the coda? Shimizu then plays the Adagio grazioso at a swift tempo but with a relaxed mien. The left hand playing is a marvel of limpid dance rhythm while the right hand playing spins off in various directions. In the middle section, Shimizu tightens up the playing in every regard, injecting some sober energy into the mix. He then keeps everything tighter and speedier in the return of the opening materially, the dance like rhythms becoming gently frantic, the right hand playing darting around. The Rondo has plenty of drive, and sounds sort-of groovy. Overall, this is a rock-solid take. The disc ends with the Moonlight. Shimizu goes for an Adagio sostenuto that one might be more likely to call Moderato, with the melody dominant, and a taut bass line. The Allegretto is unfussy and bass rich, and just right. Though the Presto agitato is not crazy fast, Shimizu's playing is nicely swift and weighty. Truth to tell, I've come close to being burned out on this sonata, but this version works well enough.


Der Sturm opens volume eight. Shimizu dispatches with the opening material by playing the arpeggios pretty quick, though he does use extended pauses, and then he launches into an Allegro characterized by decent speed and nice dynamic swings, creating ample drama. Every time Shimizu hammers out forte passages, it wallops the listener, provided the volume is turned up enough. (How else would one listen?) He knows when and how to play the slower music with just right tempi. Shimizu's take on the Adagio is of the comparatively quick and tense variety, and his take on the Allegretto is of the reasonably paced and tense-ish type, though Shimizu again hammers out the loudest passages. That's two out of two of so far in Op 31. The third makes it three. The Allegro is quick, playful, and punctuated by powerful outbursts. The Scherzo offers more of the same, with even more powerful outbursts. Shimizu backs off a bit in the Menuetto and plays very nicely, if a bit formally, but then the Presto con fuoco returns to the boisterous, if controlled, potent, fast, energetic style of the first two movements, only more so. Sweet. Op 31 is always critical for me, and Shimizu nails them. Sure, I can think of better versions, but I'll say he's top quintile here. Op 54 follows. Shimizu plays the first theme in the opening movement in rather attractive fashion, while the triplets are played with much more power and incisive staccato. Very nice. The Allegretto is a blockbuster. Not as fast as Paik, Shimizu comes closer than most to matching the Korean master, and Shimizu also infuses his playing with about the same overall level of energy. The left hand playing is occasionally pounded out to super effect. A high voltage closing movement. The first of the Op 51 Rondos closes the disc. Shimizu's style is light and rather delightful in the outer sections and punchy in the middle, and it makes for a nice extra.


The final volume includes Opp 109 and 111 as far as sonatas go, and the Op 126 Bagatelles. In 109, Shimizu plays the opening Vivace with a nice degree of transcendent sound while still keeping it in the classical realm, and his touch seems more varied, too. He doesn't hold back in the forte passages of the Adagio section, but he doesn't overdo it, and when he transitions back to gentle playing, it sounds elevated as well as well controlled. The Prestissimo, by way of contrast, is bold, loud, and powerful. The Andante theme of the last movement finds Shimizu playing with lighter, more nuanced touch, and generating more nice, transcendent sound. He then goes even further with soft, gentle, and slow playing in most of the first variation. The second variation is quicker, more pointed, but gently so, evoking "little stars", while in the third variation Shimizu manages to speed way up, playing the music at a very fast but perfectly controlled tempo, while also maintaining an elevated sound. The fourth backs off again, to nice effect. Shimizu plays the fifth variation almost as powerfully as the Prestissimo. The final variation starts like the theme, but quickly builds in speed and power to the powerful climax, and then it ends with a slow, serene coda that seems drawn out due to the playing immediately prior to it. This is an Elysian Fields ending. Good stuff. Op 111 starts with a heavy, almost lumbering Maestoso, with Shimizu seeming to go for a quasi-orchestral sonority. It's nice. The playing backs off substantially in volume before building back up, dropping off again, then plateauing, before blurred left hand trills launch the Allegro. Shimizu starts it off slow and lumbering, too, but quickly picks up the pace a bit, though less than initially anticipated. Shimizu maintains a heavier rather than speedier take throughout, and some of the playing sounds somewhat garbled or blurred in a couple places, though that seems more purposeful than due to poor playing. The Arietta starts slow and slightly heavy, though elevated, and the second half becomes lighter and more elevated. The first variation sheds some of the heaviness of the Arietta, sounding even more elevated. The second variation is much quicker and pointed, with rocking rhythm, and then Shimizu plays the third variation with one of the fastest overall tempos I've heard, pushing almost to the point of being rushed, and the right hand playing sort of cascades, while some of the left hand playing is of the aural slap in the face variety. This is high voltage stuff, almost like a final rugged outburst, and it’s what I hoped the Allegro in the first movement would have been like. Starting with the fourth variation, Shimizu switches gears, going straight to transcendent playing. The "little stars" are superb, melody-led and with terraced dynamics and precise playing. The first chain of trills sounds quick and a bit cutting, with the music that follows more or less sounding like where Op 109 left off, changes to more robust, almost urgent playing before the final chain of trills starts. Shimizu starts off quick and cutting, but he quickly backs way off in terms of volume, at points sounding almost as quiet as Yaeko Yamane, but no matter the volume, the playing from this point is of the elevated, transcendent type, finally reaching the final destination of Elysium in the coda. The sonata cycle ends with an excellent Op 111, though the other two sonatas in the final trio are more to my taste. The Op 126 Bagatelles end up serving as a most welcome, extended encore. Shimizu plays fast, slow, powerfully, gently, etc as needed. It's good, though both Brendel and Sanchez remain firmly ensconced as my favorites here.


I waited a long time to hear this cycle. It was worth the wait. Like most cycles from Japanese pianists that I have heard, Shimizu is very serious and earnest in his overall approach. He does play with a sense of fun on occasion, but never with abandon, and always with focus. He delivers superb renditions of the Op 31 sonatas, the last three sonatas are all at least excellent, some of the middle sonatas are outstanding, and he has far more hits than misses. He does not achieve the same degree of interpretive greatness as my top ten cycles, but this is an easy second tier pick.


Since Shimizu is now in the midst of recording his second take on the cycle, I need to decide if I should buy individual discs as they are released or wait and see if they are packaged up as a box at some point. I'm favoring the latter today, but that could change.


Sound is excellent, especially given that these are live performances. Often times, the audience is nearly silent, with just some quiet seat shuffling and coughs/throat clearings audible here and there, and some applause after some works.
 



A brand new LvB cycle of the super-budget variety. Martin Rasch is a forty-something German pianist who did the competition circuit and has taught since the early years of the century at his alma mater in Munich, where he counted Gerhard Oppitz among his teachers. This cycle was recorded between August 2014 and August 2016 in Munich, and was released on Audite. The bio info and history of Mr Rasch is limited and appears to be based on his website bio, which is fine, because ultimately, only the playing matters.

The cycle is presented chronologically, so disc one contains the first three sonatas. He starts the first sonata with an Allegro that's just fine. Nice tempo, nice articulation, appealing tone, nice rhythm. Nothing jumps out, nothing sounds out of place or out of sorts. Likewise with the Adagio, which is on the quick but proper end of the spectrum. The Menuetto is slightly measured tempo-wise in the outer sections, with Rasch nicely letting the melody dominate, and he lightens up a little in the middle. Rasch plays the Prestissimo on the slow and deliberate side, but still generates a nice degree of tension and drama in the outer sections, with a lighter but still deliberate middle section. A nice enough opening sonata. The Allegro vivace of 2/2 is just a bit leisurely, but falls well within standard performing practice and sounds pleasant. The Largo is suitably slow, if a bit subdued in terms of expression. The same applies to both the Scherzo and the Rondo, though in the last movement, the grazioso designation is observed. It manages to sound both formal and a bit relaxed at the same time, with nice clarity, and a too controlled to be vibrant or boisterous middle section. The last of the opening trio starts off with an Allegro con brio a bit lacking in brio. It's not necessarily too slow, nor does it lack dynamic variation, and it cruises along nicely enough, but it seems kind of reserved. It's the musical equivalent of a guy whose idea of letting loose is loosening his tie a little and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt, all while keeping his neatly pressed jacket on. The Adagio is taken at a well-judged tempo, and while not tensionless, could use some more. It could use more bass, too, in the tolling bass notes, but not everyone will agree. The Scherzo is nicely done but doesn't generate great levels of energy or excitement in the outer sections, though the middle does a good job of that. Rasch closes out with an Allegro assai that is a bit measured, though with nice clarity. The first disc is good, but a bit too proper, with limited vigor and expressiveness.

Disc two opens with Op 7, and Rasch plays the Allegro molto e con brio at a nice tempo, with well done dotted rhythm and a steady pulse. It never veers into excess of any kind, which might be viewed as a nice way of saying that it lacks individuality. Rasch paces the Largo nicely, and if it may lack a bit in terms of expression, the steady pulse and improved dynamic contrasts work nicely. The Allegro is restrained and haltingly lyrical in the outer sections and sort of darkly subdued in the middle. The Rondo is nicely done, but the stormier music is formal and controlled. It doesn't exactly lack for energy, but it sounds studied. Op 10/1 starts with a relaxed but not slow Allegro molto e con brio, with fast ascending arpeggios and a weighty second theme. The Adagio molto finds Rasch playing with a bigger, richer sonority. The playing is weighty, with some nice right hand playing, and it exudes an admirable seriousness. The Prestissimo finale is a bit measured in tempo, but weighty and forward moving and caps off a very strong fifth sonata. Op 10/2 closes the disc, and Rasch plays the opening Allegro with nice energy, even if it remains on the serious side. The Allegretto displays a nice touch of restrained drama, with some nuanced right hand playing. The Presto, thankfully with repeat, is nicely done, with bouncy rhythm, and a nice approximation of fun. The two Op 10 sonatas make this disc more successful than the first.

Disc three starts with 10/3, which starts with an energetic and cleanly articulate Presto. The Largo has a well-judged tempo, not rushed but possessed of surface tension. The build up to the climax is cleanly executed and tense, but the climax itself is not really expressive, as such. Both the Menuetto and Rondo are straight-forward and lighter though still serious. Op 13 opens slow, solemn and strong-ish in the Grave, retains solemnity throughout, and then moves to an Allegro that is not particularly swift, but it does have insistent left hand playing and forward momentum. The Adagio cantabile is a smidge on the brisk side, and perhaps not particularly lyrical, but it's nice. The Rondo is yet another movement that is nicely done, but lacks ultimate drive, and the bass, while clear, is a bit light. The recording is not bad, but this is a sonata where great recordings reign. The two Op 14 sonatas end the disc, and both are nice, neither being too heavy, and if they seem sort of like forced, serious attempts at lighter playing, they work, the second marginally better than the first.

Disc four starts with Op 22, and Rasch displays all the traits that make for a successful opening Allegro con brio, except for an effective tempo, meaning that it sounds too stodgy. In comparison, the Adagio is slightly brisk, and expressive if perhaps a bit stern. (At this point, the comparative slowness of fast movements and swiftness of slow movements reminds me of Rita Bouboulidi's cycle, though, to be sure, Rasch sounds better than that.) The Minuetto is more or less conventional in approach, as is the Rondo, though Rasch does plays some passages a bit slower than the norm, though to less deleterious effect than in the opening movement. Rasch opens Op 26 with a just right Andante theme, and then he proceeds to plays the variations with a nice degree of, well, variation. For instance, the second sounds vivacious, while the third is somewhat reserved and stern, hinting at a more stern than heroic funeral march to come. The Scherzo is quick and taut and somewhat tart, with Rasch's dynamic contrasts quite effective. As noted, the funeral march is more stern than heroic, but it works. The Allegro finds Rasch playing a bit more deliberately than in the prior movements, but it maintains enough forward momentum to make for a satisfying close to a strong overall performance. In Op 27/1, Rasch opts to play at a generally brisk pace in the context of his style, except in the notably and acceptably slow Adagio, and he plays with marked clarity, which on the downside removes most fun or fantasy. It's mostly a good tradeoff here, especially when paired with occasionally dramatic accenting and dynamic contrasts. Der Mondschein closes out the disc. It opens with a cool and steady and moody Adagio sostenuto, moves to a slightly slow Allegretto, though it features clear and nicely weighted left hand playing, and closes with a Presto agitato which is fast and potent, playing up the agitato designation.

The fifth disc opens with Op 28, and here Rasch's typical traits serve the music well. The opening Allegro is taken at a comfortable pace, displays nice clarity, appropriate accenting, and a nice sense of flow, and a middle section that sounds weightier and more intense than the surrounding music without overdoing it. The Andante manages to sound both a bit too deliberate and also nicely tetchy, with a lighter, more playful middle section. The Scherzo sounds a bit slow but otherwise works nicely, and the Rondo sounds attractive even if it is a bit too stodgy and doesn't flow especially well. Op 31/1 follows. Rasch plays the Allegro vivace at a suitable tempo and keeps it fairly light. The sense of fun is sort of one of a serious pianist approximating fun, but it still works. Every once in a while, Rasch belts out a specific note or chord to good effect. His penchant for measured tempi pays off in the Adagio grazioso which opens slow and faux clumsy to superb effect. The right hand playing, whether the trills or runs, offer clearly delineated notes throughout, too. The Rondo is played somewhat slow, in a sometimes mock lumbering fashion, and once again Rasch's clarity is admirable. Op 31/2 starts with a no-nonsense (ie, no exaggerated accents or pauses) Largo that transitions to a moderately quick Allegro that displays some oomph but ends up being a bit low energy. The Adagio, somewhat taut, comes off as lyrical and occasionally theatrical, but without darkness. Rasch plays the Allegretto with a bit more speed and drive. It's a good enough take on the work.

Disc six starts with the last of the Op 31 trio. Here Rasch plays the opening Allegro with enough drive and oomph, and ample clarity. He even manages to shed enough of his typical seriousness to sound like he's having actual fun. He manages to keep the same feel in the Scherzo, which also has insistent bass throughout, though it is not the last word in clarity. Keeping with the high energy approach, he pushes the Menuetto a bit more than expected, and the Presto con fuoco is a (nearly) rollicking good time. Superb. The Op 49 sonatas are both scaled down nicely and come off as lyrical and light enough. Op 53 starts off with a somewhat contained Allegro con brio. The overall tempo is fine, but the playing is neither particularly energetic or dynamically wide ranging, though it is clean. The Introduzione is somber and reserved, and it transitions to a Rondo that starts off tense and more or less stays that way. While Rasch's overall tempo is broad-ish, and he never really speeds up much, he does ratchet up the volume effectively. In some loud passages, the playing becomes a bit clouded and Rasch doesn't seem to dispatch some passages with especial ease. The opening movement of Op 54 starts with the first theme sounding a bit relaxed and then moves on to a very fast and potent triplets section, though ultimate dynamic range is a bit limited. The stark contrast in delivery yields a most appealing start. The Allegretto moves along at a nice pace, with a sort of flight of fancy feel to some of the right hand playing, though the comparative lack of dynamic range hampers it a bit. Overall, though, this sonata, along with a superb 31/3 make this one of the best discs of the set.

Disc seven starts with Op 57, and Rasch again displays his standard traits in the Allegro assai, and here the potent left hand playing works nicely, and he generates a good amount of power and scale. The controlled playing lacks enough intensity and passion, though. The Andante moto sounds reasonably attractive and quite formal. The Allegro ma non troppo starts off with a bit of speed, but then Rasch reverts to his normal stylings. It's not bad, it just doesn't crack the Top 40 for me. Op 78 starts with a comfortable sounding Adagio cantabile that sounds quite attractive, while the Allegro vivace is weighty and measured fun. Op 79 sound slightly broad, but is still light, is fun, and the separation of hands at about 2'40" is quite striking. The Andante sounds a bit stern but generally attractive, and the Vivace is much the same. The Les Adieux starts off with a decently expressive first movement, but like much of Rasch's playing, it sounds contained, and when he slows down in the middle it has the effect of halting momentum. The second movement sounds modestly emotive, though Rasch plays with a bit more joyous expression in the final movement. In Op 90, Rasch plays with a tetchy drive and energy and belts out the loudest passages. The second movement ends up sounding very nicely lyrical and flows well, in one of the better sonatas of the set.

Rasch starts in on the late sonatas proper with disc eight. Op 101 starts with an Allegretto, ma non troppo that certainly sounds serious and quite grounded, meaning it is not especially transcendent in overall approach. The march is more pointed and potent and weighty, which is aided by the close microphones and audible pedal stomps. The playing remains nicely clear throughout. Rasch's penchant for broad-ish tempi works well in the Adagio, which also sounds quite intimate and inward looking, while the final movement is more exultant and extroverted, a celebration of sorts. Rasch keeps things clean and clear, and plays with a measured tempo, though one that seems just about right, and he ends with a potent coda. Rasch's Op 106 is slow at just shy of forty-seven minutes, and it starts with a slow Allegro that nears the twelve minute mark. The opening chords are played with ample speed and energy, as they are when repeated. The longer than normal timing comes mostly from playing in the exposition and development. To his credit, the movement never drags, and he plays with nice clarity, but coming soon-ish after Oliver Chauzu and Sequeira Costa, who likewise take their sweet time, he neither offers a forensic approach nor does he deploy accents and rubato quite so individually. His is more straight-forward, but it still works nicely and at times he moves forward with great power and momentum. Too, some of the highest register takes on a sharp, bright not unappealing sound in places. The Scherzo keeps in line with the style. While Rasch plays a not especially slow Adagio at just under nineteen minutes, it starts off very slow, indeed. It's so slow, that it is obvious some later music will be played at a more conventional speed. Indeed, Rasch slowly and barely perceptibly speeds up not after not too long, ratcheting up the intensity in the process. Until just before seven minutes, the playing sounds somewhat like a bitter lament before transforming briefly into something colder and bleaker, and then after about 8'30" into a mix of suppressed anger and sorrow. Rasch then mixes and matches approaches a bit through to the end. The close recording renders some pedaling quite noticeable, but it's fine. The final movement starts with a somewhat tense and quick Largo, and then after a powerful conclusion, transitions to a fugue that is more measured in tempo, with the movement lasting over thirteen minutes. Rasch maintains admirable clarity, but it sounds as though he needs the somewhat slow tempo to achieve that. While musically satisfying, it does take on something of a didactic mien at times. Overall, it's a strong performance, though probably not a top thirty choice.

The last disc contains the last three sonatas. Rasch plays the Vivace at a pleasant speed that lets the melodies flow, and some of his right hand playing sounds delicate at times. The effect is more light than transcendent. The Prestissimo is not especially fast, but it is delivered with nice clarity, and a sense of notable forward momentum in the loudest passages. The Andante theme that opens the final movement is slow and subdued, but neither especially lovely or transcendent. That written, it works well in its plainness. The first variation sounds slower and more contemplative, while second variation often sounds slower and more deliberate than I typically prefer. The third variation, on the other hand, has ample drive and weight. Rasch keeps the fourth variation a bit quicker than the theme, while he plays the fifth variation at a decent clip, though dynamics are somewhat reined in. His left hand playing is comparatively prominent, which is nice, but some of the playing ends up sounding less refined, but not in a nicely gruff Beethovenian manner. Too, some playing isn't really steady. The final variation, like the fourth, sounds a bit quicker than the theme, and while attractive, is not particularly elevated. Op 110 starts with a Moderato cantabile molto espressivo that is again nicely paced, but it doesn't flow as well as some versions, and it lacks much in the way of a transcendental sound. That written, some of the right hand playing is intimate, and in a few places, his left hand playing is sort of italicized, it's repetitiveness more pronounced than normal. The Allegro molto possesses nice speed, weight, and accenting. The final movement starts with a solemn and somewhat sorrowful first arioso, moves to a serious and sober fugue where Rasch infuses some playing with nice heft, moves to a slightly swifter less sorrowful second arioso, which ends in repeated chords that build up nicely but not to a particularly loud volume, and then ends with an energetic inverted fugue which itself ends with a potent coda. Op 111 starts with a nicely accented but not especially dark Maestoso, then moves to an Allegro with more pronounced and weighty playing to start and nice momentum to follow, though it is neither very fast or intense. It's not bad, but it's not especially memorable. The very slow second movement starts with a reasonably attractive but not moving Arietta, and the first variation keeps in line with the playing. The second variation sounds a bit brisker than normal, in relative terms, while the boogie woogie variation is fast and displays nice clarity, but it lacks the rhythmic snap of preferred versions. The fourth variation sounds a bit clunky to start, and the "little stars" are too deliberate and plain. For much of the rest of the movement, the most noteworthy aspect of the playing is the steady, clear bass line. The chains of trills aren't bad, but they don't always sound even, and the coda is not particularly special. The cycle doesn't end on a high note.

Rasch's cycle certainly has its high points - the Op 10 trio is quite good, Opp 28, 31/1, and 31/3 have their strong points, an both Opp 90 and 106 are good - but no sonata ever really seems to be truly great, and in some cases the pianist's penchant for slow/slow-ish tempi and somewhat formal and stolid playing result in performances that lack life. This is not really a cycle for someone looking for energy or excitement or strong personality, nor is it a cycle for someone looking for ultimate refinement. It's safe and serious and occasionally bland. I've certainly heard worse, but I've heard better, much better. Fourth tier for me.

Sound quality is fully modern. It is always clear, with some recordings a bit closer than others. At times, it sounds as though some reverb may be augmented, but maybe not.
 
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It fell off my radar since it's incomplete, at least for now, but Robert Silverman's set of 23 sonatas recorded in 2010 is available as a free MP3 192 Kbps download at Audio High. They sell CD quality, high res, and MQA downloads as well, and supposedly, if demand is high enough, the remaining nine sonatas will be released later.
 


[url=https://www.amazon.co.uk/Magnificent-Obsession-Complete-Beethoven-Sonatas/dp/B018RX6492/ref=sr_1_cc_3?s=aps&ie=UTF8&qid=1519062599&sr=1-3-catcorr&keywords=sebastian+forster+beethoven]


My now annual tradition of a surprise Beethoven piano sonata cycle popping up at the beginning of the year happened again this year. This time it was due to my laziness and failure to explore all possible available cycles. To be chronologically accurate, I learned about the cycle the last week of 2017, though I did not buy it and start listening to it until the beginning of this year. The cycle was recorded between 2009 and 2012 and was released as two volumes on CD in 2012. Physical copies linger, for a premium price, at the usual outlets, but the cycle is available as downloads. I opted for the $60 MP3 option at CD Baby, though a "deluxe" FLAC edition is available from the pianist's website for $170, for those so inclined. The cycle can also be streamed for no additional outlay at Amazon and presumably from other streaming services. To the pianist: Sebastián Forster was born in 1975 in Buenos Aires, studied with Aldo Antognazzi, who in turn studied with Michelangeli, and he made his public debut at the age of ten. He has made several other recordings of core rep and non-core rep, as well.

I decided to listen as presented, which means chronologically. Immediately, I found something wrong with the sound. Impossibly close and dry, and presented with a sort of synthetic, phase-altered pianist's perspective - the lower registers originating from the left, the upper registers from the right - with the frequency extremes rolled off, it sounded off. I immediately found another recording from Forster to stream, a live one, confirmed he's a real pianist, set my preamp to mono, and moved forward. (I know that MP3 usually/always sounds less good than lossless/CD, but this was different.) The opening Allegro is a bit on the leisurely side, lacking fire, but it flows along nicely and has a fluid rhythmic sense to it. The Adagio is suitably slow and flowing and modestly attractive. The Scherzo is a bit jauntier. The Prestissimo, though, is too slow and low on bite and energy and drive, and some middle register notes sound off. It also does not sound as securely executed as the best versions I've heard, but the playing is nicely clear. The second sonata starts with an Allegro vivace that doesn't sound particularly like an Allegro, nor is it vivacious. Some extra-audible pedaling doesn't help matters. Forster starts off the Largo at a brisk-ish pace, which he maintains more or less throughout, and he adds a bit of passion. The Scherzo starts off fine, but switches to too slow, deliberate playing, though again the clarity is nice enough. The pedal stomping becomes way too obtrusive, though. The Rondo sounds flowing and attractive, but the blobby bass and oppressively close microphones render the low frequencies too dominant. The middle section finds Forster playing with more fire and drive, showing he can at least turn up the wick when needed. The third sonata starts off well enough in the first theme, but then it slows down and sounds stiff, and then it alternates between sometimes fine, sometimes stiff playing. And pedal stomps are evident again. The Adagio again finds Forster playing comparatively swiftly (the slow fast movement, fast slow movement approach brings Rita Bouboulidi to mind), with pedal stomps again obtrusive, though one byproduct is that Forster does generate some scale, The Scherzo is fairly conventional, and the Allegro assai is light and fun, but it's a bit on the slow side of normal. Overall, the opening trio is of the poor quality variety.

For the second group of three sonatas, I started with Op 7. The recorded sound, while not SOTA, is more conventional with this sonata, with maybe some artificial reverb added. Forster starts off with a very peppy and occasionally very weighty Allegro molto e con brio. The playing does not sound as clear as the first trio most of the time, but the right hand playing has bite, and the playing has nice forward momentum. It's more or less on the energetic end of the conventional interpretation spectrum. Forster plays the Largo con gran espressione at a pretty rapid clip, coming in at just 7'23", rendering it more intense than normal. Often, the right hand playing dominates the left, but then Forster will just switch it up. The Allegro is back to the energetic but conventional approach, though the middle section might be described as a little blobbier in the bass and more accented than normal. The concluding Rondo is played faster than normal, and here Forster dashes off some phrases with panache, and he ratchets up the intensity in the fast playing. This is an excellent version of the work and represents a massive qualitative improvement over the opening trio; it's probably the most significant qualitative shift in a cycle I've heard. In Op 10/1, Forster reverts back to the style of the first three sonatas by playing slowly, with the ascending arpeggios sounding like the musical equivalent of a fullback mowing down a weak secondary. The playing of the movement as a whole has an inevitable forward drive, with some playing slightly less tense, and the sound remains good. The Adagio molto offers a needed reprieve. Forster plays it slow, but it never sounds sluggish, and more than occasionally it sounds lovely. The playing becomes a bit more forceful in the second section, which is to be expected, but everything remains nicely measured. The Prestissimo starts off very slow and clear, with Forster never really adopting a fast tempo, though he does generate that sense of inevitable forward drive again. Op 10/2 starts off with a lengthy 9'12" opener, implying and delivering a not-so-fast sound and feel. The tradeoff here is that clarity of voices is almost unnerving, with the left hand playing less prominent but very clear and seemingly desynchronized a bit from the right. (Maybe handed down from teacher to teacher.) It's less light and fun than a musical dissection. Not that I'm complaining. Forster then plays the Menuetto with a bit more tension, adding some effective but not overbearing touches, and maintaining that clarity. The somewhat measured Presto, with repeat, adds a bit of pep and hints of lightness to the mix, but otherwise stays in the overall style of the rest of the work. This ended the second batch for listening purposes, and it resulted in something of a sigh of relief. After the first three sonatas, I feared I was wandering into Rita Bouboulidi or Anne Oland territory, with even worse sound, but things improved a lot.

The third group of sonatas started off with Op 10/3. Here, Forster starts off with a Presto of just slightly slower than normal overall tempo, but it never sounds too slow. Some of the playing seems labored, but it is more likely for effect, because Forster seems to handle everything else just fine. Around 1'20"-ish, he bunches some notes in what initially seems like a slip, but then he repeats it later, meaning it's an interpretive device, or it couldn't be edited out in any instance. The overall feeling is of unstoppable forward drive. Forster then does the slow fast movement, fast slow movement thing again in a very tersely played Largo. It's sort of a teeth-gnashing take that never relaxes, and he ratchets up the tension in the climax even more, though he never plays with great power. Forster keeps things quick for the outer sections of the Menuetto, with the middle section played notably more slowly, a la Pueyo. The Rondo manages to blend both the quick-ish and light-ish styles and the slow-ish but unyielding forward drive styles. A somewhat unconventional take on the last of the Op 10 trio, and a good one. Op 13 starts with a tetchy Grave with potent forte playing, and it then launches into a moderately speedy Allegro section with spicy accents and blurred bass tremolos. Some of the playing seems strained as one section transitions to the next, but it has plenty of energy. The Adagio cantabile is perhaps just a bit broad and stately. Forster adds some attractive lyrical playing to the mix. The Rondo is robust and energetic. It is not of the super-fast variety, but it moves along nicely. Op 14/1 opens with an Allegro characterized by moderately paced, nicely accented playing through most of the movement, with some more deliberate, clear playing thrown in for good effect. Forster then nearly rockets through the opening of the Allegretto, before slowing a bit, and then speeding up again. It makes for an ear-catching contrast to the opener, that's for sure. The Rondo ends in conventional fashion. A superb take with some unique aspects. Forster goes for the turbo-charged approach again in the Allegro of 14/2. Really, it's more Presto or Prestissimo. It may be too fast. Nah. OK, so maybe the right hand runs could be a little more fluid, but otherwise it’s fun, NoDoz-infused playing. The second movement starts with a very Presto sounding Andante theme, with slightly exaggerated accents. Forster never lets up in the variations. The playing borders on the too aggressive at times, but it never, ever bores. The Scherzo, in contrast, sounds slower and more deliberate (there's almost no way it couldn't), but it is clean, clear, pointed and inevitable. Woo boy! The Op 14 sonatas cook.

The fourth group of sonatas kicks off with Op 22. Forster plays the Allegro con brio with a nice degree of energy and drive and nice articulation, but it doesn't really stand out. It's just good. Forster once again keeps the Adagio a bit on the quick, tense side, to good effect. He also makes sure to play with a goodly amount of lyricism. The Menuetto is somewhat quick but flowing in the outer section, and in the middle section he ramps up the intensity, but also deploys a lot of legato, making a quasi-stormy blur of the music. The Rondo, peppered with some personal rubato, is generally forward moving with hints some more blurred legato and lovely lyricism. It's a nice version, though a qualitative step down from the Op 14 blockbusters. Op 26 starts off with a well-paced Andante theme, delivered in generally attractive fashion, and Forster moves from variation to variation doing a good job bringing each to life. He seems to fair best when playing left hand accents. Some of the music becomes slightly chunky, but nothing too bad. The Scherzo finds Forster playing with a somewhat relaxed overall tempo, mixing some sometimes light, sometimes clunky playing, though it's always of the good natured sort. The funeral march, on the other hand, is predictably somber. The rhythm is almost macabrely dance-like in the outer sections, with the middle section more emphatic. The Rondo is off. Slow, or at least slow-ish, with some clunky halts, it doesn't flow. It still manages to sort of work, especially in the middle section, but it marks a qualitative step down from Op 22. Op 27/1 starts with a leisurely paced Andante with some notes shortened for some reason, which makes the piece sort of lurch. The Allegro isn't especially fast, but it is powerful, but the playing seems a bit disjointed and desynchronized, and the return of the opening material is like the first take, sans the shortened note values. The Allegro molto e vivace is a bit disjointed again in the outer sections, but more vivacious in the trio. The last section has a brief section where perspective seems to shift a bit, indicating maybe different sessions were mixed without matching levels exactly. The Adagio con espressione follows Forster's recurring pattern of playing slow movements somewhat quick, and here he plays an entire section in a terse, clipped manner. It's certainly interpreted, and it doesn't click with me. From the Allegro vivace on, the playing has a sort of chunky or clunky feel, with the forward momentum halting either because Forster wants to make a point or has some difficulty making the necessary transitions. Whatever the reason, it doesn't work well, except for the coda. The first volume ends with Op 27/2. Forster plays the Adagio sostenuto at a steady, slow, sustained pace. It doesn't really elicit much atmosphere, nor is there much cumulative power. One slow, steady bar follows another. Forster offers a sharp, pointed, swift Allegretto for contrast, and he closes with one of the more "interpreted" versions of the Presto agitato I've heard in a while, up there with Sachiko Furuhata-Kersting. Passages are blurred, transitions blown through, the sustain ridden to the point that arpeggios emerge either as standard chords or undifferentiated sonic blobs, and the whole thing seems to hover between mezzo forte and forte most of the time. It's not necessarily bad, but I hesitate to describe it as particularly good.

The second volume and fifth group of sonatas starts off with Op 28. The Allegro has a nice overall tempo, but it doesn't flow very well, with the repetitive bass line unsteady compared to better versions, and also a bit unclear. The right hand playing sounds a bit terse, too, but it works better. Forster can and does build up to satisfying climaxes, but the left hand playing doesn't work for me. Forster goes for a quick and nervous style in the outer sections, with clearer bass, though it's not always the most steady, and this approach ends up reducing contrast with the middle section a bit, which carries over to the Scherzo. The Rondo is a bit slower in the outer sections, and fierier in the middle, but still keeps in line with the overall vibe established in the first three movements. It's not bad, but nothing stands out. Op 31/1 opens with a brisk, playful Allegro vivace, and Forster speeds up even more in the second subject. The middle section sounds close to rushed, and both here and nearer the end of the movement, some of the dynamics seem a bit flattened in order to play at a consistently fast speed. The Adagio grazioso has fairly steady, quite clear, and purposely clunky bass, while the opening trills are not the steadiest I've heard. In the middle section, Forster plays with greater insistence with the left hand, and he tightens up the playing afterward. The Rondo is well paced and clear, but some of the playing isn't especially fluid, and it sort of sounds rushed forward, with not enough rhythmic variation. Sometimes, in the back half of the movement, Forster completely drowns out the right hand playing with some bruising left hand playing. The effect is not unpleasant, but it may be too exaggerated. Op 31/2 starts off with a somewhat quick Largo with rushed, blurred, flattened, and undramatic arpeggios, and the Allegro section, while suitably quick, sounds dynamically flattened, perhaps to facilitate the tempo, though it's not particularly fast. The overall feel is more tetchy than dramatic, though some more satisfying dynamic swings appear near the end. The Adagio stays fairly taut and quick and lacks much drama, staying more classical in nature, and the Allegretto keeps with the smaller scaled, less dramatic overall approach, with some at times prominent though not too heavy bass. There are some nice things, but it's not a top forty hit. Forster starts off Op 31/3 starts off with bright, clean playing, sounding like it's in the middle of a long passage, then moves to some faster playing of no little energy and rhythmic swagger. But then, Forster ends up playing some music with unusual rubato that doesn't fit, and while clarity remains fine, stability does not. It almost sounds as if the music is rushing forward in a headlong manner even though it's not that fast. The Scherzo clears all that up in a sly, scampish, fast 'n' fun take. The Menuetto is played at a moderate tempo as designated, and while not devoid of some individual accenting in the trio, even that sounds mostly lyrical, while the outer sections sound rather attractive. The work closes with a Presto con fuoco of ample energy and nicely done left hand playing. It ends up being the highlight of the Op 31 trio, which is uneven overall. Pity.

The next batch of sonatas starts with Op 49. Here, Forster goes for the slow-is-profound approach in the first movement of the first sonata, complete with some excess rubato and lovely if drawn out lyricism. He then zips through the Rondo in a style that may offer too much contrast. The second sonata isn't slow in the opener, but the extra ornamentation and rubato and some more potent than normal accents make it seem like the pianist is trying too hard. Forster reserves his slow playing for the second movement, where it works reasonably well. Op 53 starts with quickly dispatched chords, though they sound mezzo-piano. The long timing of 12'20" for the movement indicates what is coming in terms of slowing things down, presumably for dramatic effect. It doesn't really indicate what is coming in terms of bizarrely disjointed playing starting at around 1'30", with too prominent left hand playing and a general sense of strain and confusion. No bueno. Things pick back up after that, but the movement more or less alternates between fast and not to quiet playing where it should be quiet, and slower than normal and kind of kludgy playing where it definitely should not be. Sometimes, Forster will make the bass growl in a subdued fashion, which sounds neat, but then he'll slow down ascending passages, which does not. The Introduzione is suitably slow and dramatic, and Forster adds some personal touches that work well enough, or at least don't detract from the proceedings, at least until the playing right before the coda, which sounds messy. The Rondo is likewise fairly slow overall, and while Forster generates some nice volume and scale, the playing sounds too wobbly a lot of the time, even when the playing is slow. A big whiff. Op 54 works better. The first movement alternates a lovely menuetto and more driven, if dynamically constrained, triplets sections nicely, and ends with a fast, emphatic Allegretto. Op 57 starts off somewhat subdued in terms of volume, but quick, and Forster builds up to much more powerful playing in the loud passages, with cutting right hand playing and usually beefy left hand playing, and he also lets the volume back most naturally. The Andante con moto starts with an attractive if pensive theme and the variations are nicely done, at times sounding bright and piercing. The Allegro ma non troppo-Presto more or less keeps up the same bright, piercing sound. Left hand weight is generally on the light side, and tempo on the fast side, creating a sort of middle-weight sound akin to Seymour Lipkin, but without the more experienced pianist's gruff agility. Qualitatively, it's good, but not top thirty, or maybe even top forty.

The next batch of four sonatas starts with Op 78. Forster's approach is fairly conventional overall, with really nice clarity and a few interpretive devices tossed in - eg, accents and exaggerated dynamics in the first movement. Likewise, Op 79 is pretty much straight-forward throughout, with a alightly more dramatic than normal Andante and slightly slower than normal Vivace the main differentiators. Op 81a starts with a more or less conventional opening movement, with some nice dynamics and clarity, but some of the playing exhibits the sort of disjointed, desynchronized sound at the beginning of some passages again, making it sort of blocky. On the flipside, Forster's accenting of some chords pops out and sounds swell, even if it is a fine detail with no real significance. And he slows way down in the coda very nicely. The second movement is less sorrowful or introspective than many readings, instead sounding more impatient. The Vivacissimamente is large-scaled and celebratory, but the left hand fortissimo playing (as in fff playing, or the microphones were too close, or someone fiddled at the mixing desk) completely overwhelms and drowns out the melody a few times, to the point of distraction, and the playing becomes too stiff in some accelerating passages. Had these interpretive devices been curbed a bit, it would be a very good version. The recorded perspective for Op 90 is a bit more distant than 81a, causing the listener to have to adjust a bit. The playing sounds a bit small scaled and tetchy and swift at the outset, then accelerates with the right hand runs, sounding angry and agonized. Excellent. The second movement stays quick and alert and lyrical enough, more early Beethoven than lyrical proto-Schubert. It melds well with the opening movement and Forster delivers one of his best performances of the cycle.

Forster starts off Op 101 with a first movement that boasts nice clarity, and if not a transcendent sound so much as a slightly more searching middle period one, nonetheless includes some small gestures and accents that catch the ear. The march starts off with exaggerated speed and rubato. It actually startles, though once the initial surprise wears off after a couple seconds, what's left just sounds too rushed in the outer sections. Forster does play with ample weight and drive and some biting accents, though, and there is a degree of excitement to the proceedings, but it's almost like rambunctious early style in a late work. Forster then plays the Adagio at a somewhat quick pace to open, then slows down a bit, but it's never really slow. He achieves a sort of quasi-transcendent sound, though. The final movement is generally fast and clear, with the left hand playing quite good, and the right hand playing at times quite bright. As a more intense, middle-period style take on the work, it's good. Op 106 starts with a real slow Allegro, which comes in at a lengthy 13'04". It's not the slowest version I've heard – ever or even recently – but unlike some other slow versions (Eschenbach, Chauzu, and Costa), the slowness is pretty much all the listener notices first, second, and third. After one gets past the slowness, one notices nice scale, admirable steadiness of tempo, and clarity. But mostly one just notices the slowness. The Scherzo sounds pretty much the same, only slightly sped up, except for some playing in the coda. The Adagio comes in at a more standard seventeen minutes and change. As the playing of the movement unfolds, much of the phrasing is stiff and disjointed, and the clarity allows one to hear the somewhat awkward left hand playing under the too lean staccato of the right hand. The playing improves and becomes more fluid and desolate the longer the movement goes on, and Forster ratchets up the intensity in the last quarter or so. The movement is about two-thirds excellent. The final movement starts with a nice, pretty much standard Largo. The fugue is moderately fast and quite clear, with the clarity sort of enhancing the perception of speed. It's a bit flat rhythmically, but that doesn't detract. Overall, it's too mixed to place in the top fifty.

The last three sonatas finds Forster starting off Op 109 with a brisk Vivace ma non troppo. The playing doesn't really flow, and sometimes the left hand playing dominates, and the overall feel is more of middle period Beethoven. The Prestissimo is more or less standard in conception and flows better. In the final movement, the Andante theme sounds quite lovely, but then Forster slows things down for the first variation and plays even more beautifully, creating a transcendent and gentle feel. He then speeds up notably in the second variation, and he plays cleanly and clearly, but it sounds almost nervous at times. The third variation is swift but restrained, almost stiff in its swiftness. Things return to an almost transcendent sound in the fourth variation, but the left and right hand playing sound somewhat disjointed, almost like the parts are taken from two different recordings. Forster maintains the transcendent, or something like it through the last two variations, and he adds some personal touches, but sometimes the rubato sort of detracts. It's not a bad rendition of the sonata, but it's not a near-great one. The Moderato cantabile molto espressivo of Op 110 starts off rather lovely, but the interpretive tinkering harms the flow, though some of the right hand arpeggios are nice. The outer sections of the Allegro molto manage to sound both quick and almost lumbering, while the middle is uncommonly quick, clear, and linear. In the final movement, both arioso sections have a sort of searching quality to them that brings to mind the Adagio of 106, broadly speaking. He ends the second arioso with an effective buildup of repeated chords. Both the fugue and inverted fugue are played with nice clarity, and the inverted fugue also sports a peppy tempo and a somewhat brusque ending. Op 111 starts with a dark Maestoso, and Forster keeps the Allegro section dark, too, while playing with ample energy and power. It's an excellent opener. The second movement starts off with a slow Arietta. The tone is a bit rich and dark, and the first half sounds mostly just slow while the second half, sounding a bit slower yet, adds some greater depth to the simple music. Forster proves adept at knowing when to sustain chords and when not to. The first two variations are nicely done, but nothing special. The boogie-woogie variation is nicely high energy and snappy. The little stars are quick and almost ethereal, but the chains of trills are sometimes stodgy and uneven. The music rarely sounds transcendent, instead taking on something closer to middle period urgency again, and not even the coda sounds moving, though it sounds at least good. Overall, it's not a favorite final sonata, and the final trio as a whole is around average.

This cycle is hard to assess overall because it is so uneven. The opening three sonatas are near bottom tier qualitatively due to horrid sound and way too slow playing. The cycle improves markedly after that, at least for a while. The set's highest peaks are very high indeed - the Op 14 sonatas, for instance, or Op 90 - but some other sonatas are off, sometimes a lot - Op 53, for instance. Sometimes Forster's playing sounds masterful or something close to it, and sometimes it sounds kludgy, disjointed, strained and just unappealing. As such, there's no way I can consider this a second tier cycle. I'm not sure with its unevenness that I can consider it third tier, especially when factoring in Op 31 and the late sonatas. Therefore, I'll add it to my fourth tier for now. (If new cycles stop being released and I somehow end up with a lot more free time, I may do some A/Bs with lesser cycles, though the thought of that doesn't really appeal a whole lot.) Others may find the whole thing much better, though.[/url]
 
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The existence of John Kane's Beethoven cycle took me by surprise. That in itself is ultimately not surprising since Mr Kane is not a professional pianist, and this cycle is the first I've seen advertised as "homemade". The recordings were literally made in the pianist's home, and Kane served as his own engineer. The recordings were made between April and November 2016, and the liner notes indicate that they were either minimally edited, or not edited at all. In addition to this set, Kane has recorded a good chunk of other core rep, but the amateur Beethoven cycle was all I wanted. The cycle comes packaged as nine individual CD-Rs packaged in nine old fashioned jewel cases themselves encased in an old-fashioned, thin cardboard box. The use of CD-Rs is new for my sonata cycle collection, but the other packaging is common. As to the pianist, he studied at Northwestern and spent time studying with John Browning while the latter was Artist-in-Residence at the university, and he entered the Sixth Van Cliburn Competition, and after not doing very well, he pursued a career in business.

I'll jump right in with Op 2. The sound quality definitely gives away the amateur nature of the set. Sound is distant-ish, resonant, opaque, rolled off, congested in loud passages, and has poor stereophonic sound for a contemporary recording. (One can listen in mono with little going missing.) I've literally heard a piano recording made in my home that sounds better. (The guy I bought my house from recorded New Age music in the great room and he gave me a disc to listen to; sound was fine, the music, well, let's move on.) Kane starts 2/1 with a super-speedy Allegro. It's got energy and some decent loud playing, and is otherwise straight-forward. The Adagio sounds slow and plain, with not much expression. The Menuetto sounds nice. The Prestissimo is slow and heavy at times, and the loudest passages sound fiery but congested. 2/2 is much the same, with a peppy opener, a slow Largo with some hefty loud passages, a Scherzo that is peppy in the outer sections and peppier yet, and dramatic, in the trio, and ends with a more lyrical and relaxed Rondo, though the middle section is suitably more intense. 2/3 starts with a very peppy Allegro con brio, but the congested sound turns some passages into a blur. The Adagio is slow and steady, with Kane belting out the loudest notes to pretty good effect. The Scherzo is peppy and light in the outer sections, but Kane really belts out the middle section. Kane ends with an Allegro assai with just about the right amount of energy and drive, though congested sound and playing both crop up. A mixed opening trio. While never great, it's certainly much better than Sebastián Forster, and the third sonata, in particular sounds nice.

The second disc starts with Op 10/1, and here Kane plays conventionally. The Allegro molto e con brio has quick ascending arpeggios and the rest of the movement more or less moves along like a standard interpretation. The Adagio and Finale likewise fall well within the bounds of convention, though the energy and sforzandi in the Finale are undeniably appealing. 10/2 starts with a too slow Allegro, moves to a tense Allegretto characterized by nice dynamic contrasts that would have been even better with proper sound not muddying the quieter passages, and closes with a generally peppy and fun and repeat-filled Presto, though some passages get bogged down with kludgy sounding playing. Kane starts 10/3 with a very fast, and not particularly clear Presto. He deploys some rubato, slows up some in some passages, and then goes for breakneck speed in some other passages. The Largo is of the fast and tense variety, with what in a better sounding recording would be a satisfying climax. The Menuetto is on the quick side and the Rondo on the more moderate side. It's good. The disc ends with Op 13. Kane opens with a bracing Grave then plays the Allegro section with a sort of controlled exuberance. The Adagio cantabile sounds serviceably lyrical and lofty, and the Rondo is nicely paced with ample drive. A pretty good disc.

Disc three starts with Op 7, and the congested and blurred sound detracts markedly from the Allegro molto e con brio, which is otherwise played with ample energy, nice rhythm, nice sforzandi, and nice rubato, all without being too nice. The nicely paced Largo has some potent forte playing and at times displays a wonderfully steady, subdued left hand underpinning sharper right hand playing, with Kane using pauses and rubato nicely, and some of the playing before and during the coda is just lovely. In overall effect, the movement is sort of reminiscent of the slow movement of Op 28. Very nice. Kane plays the Allegro on the slow side overall, doing the lovely, lilting thing a bit, but also throwing in some nice dynamic gradations. The middle section, though muffled, manages to both growl and laze about. The Rondo, not shying away from the grazioso designation, is comfortably pastoral in nature. That's not to say the Kane doesn't play with some intensity in places - he does - just that this isn't too pressed. While there are certainly better versions, and better executed versions, of this sonata out there, here's a case where an amateur pianist delivers a fully satisfying rendition of a sonata. Op 54 starts with a somewhat reserved first movement. The Menuetto theme is attractive, and the triplets section manages to be both hard hitting and a bit slower than normal, coming close to sounding lumbering. The second movement comes off as too slow and labored to be truly effective, though the forte playing is nice. The disc ends with Op 57. Kane starts the Allegro assai off dark and quick, then he blasts out the music. It's loud and clangorous and rushed, and blurred and not ideally secure, but it packs a wallop. A solid opener. The Andante con moto marries a slightly slow delivery with a sense of urgency. Kane starts the final movement by playing at a blistering pace. If some of the playing is blurred, and some a bit thick, the overall super-charged atmosphere and intensity makes up for it. Not one of the greats, but very, very good overall.

The fourth disc opens with the Op 14 sonatas. The Allegro of 14/1 is uncommonly leisurely and melody dominated. The Allegretto keeps the same approach, veering into lovely Adagio territory, and the Rondo, while not as relatively slow, keeps the same vibe. Nice. 14/2, in contrast, is fast. Yes, there are faster takes, but it's like Kane contrasts one sonata with another. He generally plays at a comfortable volume - the otherwise sub-par sound does make it clear how often Kane plays softly - with an exception in the more vibrant middle section. He keeps the second and third movements light and playful, too. Op 26 follows, and the sonics sound slightly improved. The Andante and variations are straight-forward with nothing outside standard performance parameters, and Kane tosses in some nice personal touches and seems to speed up the basic pulse as the movement progresses. The Scherzo is quick and forceful, though some of the faster left hand passages sound a bit untidy. The funeral march is fast, tense, and almost angry, though not especially large in scale, at least to start. The middle section is even faster and edgier than the surrounding music. Kane then dashes off the Allegro with something approaching recklessness. The sonata easily surpassed expectations. The first Quasi una fantasia follows. Kane plays the opening Andante in a standard and attractive manner. The first Allegro section finds Kane playing nearly recklessly again, though the effect is not unpleasant. The Allegro molto e vivace is not quite borderline reckless, but it is fast and rather intense and maybe a bit mashed together in the coda. The Adagio is lovely but tense, and it bluntly segues to an Allegro vivace that displays more quasi-reckless playing punctuated with loud-ass sforzandi. It doesn't keep up the pace the whole time, and some of Kane's accenting tips into the perhaps too personalized, though everything flies by, so there's not much time to dwell on it, at least until the elongated music immediately preceding the zippy coda. 27/2 keeps up the zippy feel with an Adagio sostenuto that comes in at a tight 5'17". Generally quick and unsentimental, with some left hand note values discreetly extended, the movement is done before you know it. (I'd hazard a guess that this is a one take recording.) The Allegretto is also a bit quick, but more standard in conception, and the Presto agitato is fast, blurred, clangy, usually loud, and enjoyable. It's not a top twenty take, but it never felt like a dutiful listen.

Disc five is devoted to the Op 31 trio. 31/1 starts with a very fast Allegro vivace characterized by strong forte playing, a sense of fun, and something of a lack of clarity. To mix things up, Kane accelerates in some later playing and at times the playing borders on the aggressive. That's not a bad thing. Through a combination of the sonics, the tempo, and pedaling, Kane starts the Adagio with blurred trills and creates a sort of dreamy, jokey effect. Once again he plays some music, like the second sets of trills, at a very fast pace, but here he plays a lot of the music at a very appropriate slow pace. The chordal section opens with a bang and then is played slower and weightier than before, and the return to the opening material finds Kane slowing down and luxuriating a bit, before finally returning to some speedy trills and more buoyant playing. The Rondo is conventional in conception but leisurely in execution, making it more attractive but less fun than I generally prefer. Still, the sonata is not bad. 31/2 starts with a slow but not particularly dramatic Largo and moves to a not particularly fast Allegro that contains a nice degree of drama. The Adagio is on the slow side and is mostly subdued, while the Allegretto is also on the slow side, but Kane powers out the loudest passages to good effect. Not a top forty take. 31/3 starts with an Allegro just a hair on the broad side, but otherwise it displays ample energy and fun. The Scherzo displays more of Kane's rushed, almost reckless playing, with boisterous outbursts and high levels of energy. The Minuetto is generally more relaxed and lyrical, the slow middle section with its potent loud playing aside. The Presto con fuoco is fast, but here Kane makes it a point to play some of the music in positively thundering fashion. It's not the most secure sounding playing, but it works well.

The sixth disc opens with Op 28, and based on prior recordings, expectations were moderately high, in the context of the cycle, for this sonata. Kane doesn't disappoint. He plays the opening Allegro at a reasonable tempo, peppering the playing with some nice sforzandi, and building up to a satisfyingly powerful climax. There's nothing too adventurous to be heard. Kane then opts for an extra slow Andante, as in Largo slow. He holds the musical line together, but it drags on a bit. On the plus side, he shows just how quiet his pianissimo can get - and that's very quiet, indeed. He ends up playing the middle section even more slowly in relative terms, coming perilously close to breaking the line, and he reserves some powerful playing for near the end of the piece. As far as too-slow second movements go, this one is good. Kane then takes the opposite tack for the Scherzo, playing it quick 'n' jaunty, with spicy sforzandi, and a thundering coda. The Rondo starts off relaxed and lilting and quite lovely, but as the movement progresses he alternates between quiet and lovely playing and massive sounding, stinging fortissimo playing. It could flow better, and be a bit tighter, but it works overall, as does the sonata. The Op 49 sonatas follow. In the first, Kane plays the Andante very slowly and contrasts that with a very peppy Rondo. In the second, Kane plays the Allegro ma non troppo in a peppy and light manner and the Tempo di Minuetto in a slightly fast but always lovely manner. Op 53 closes the disc. Kane opens the Allegro con brio with a nice combo of speed and quietness, but that quickly transforms into louder, more extroverted playing, some of which is thick and opaque, especially from the left hand, and some of which is quite fast and approaching the near-recklessness of some prior playing, and the loudest passages also veer into nearly out of control banging. There's certainly ample energy. The Introduzione is a bit stiff, but otherwise falls in the acceptable category, while the Rondo is of the swift, weighty, sometimes nearly or actually banging, and sometimes slightly untidy variety. I've certainly heard worse, but I've also heard much better.

Disc seven starts off with Op 22. Here Kane goes for a swift Allegro con brio, using rubato to rush some phrases even more, and hammering out forte notes and chords to generally good effect. In contrast, Kane plays the Adagio very slowly, lingering over some passages, injecting some pauses, including one whopper, and generally maintaining calm demeanor. It's not profound, or anything, but it's nice. Kane keeps the Menuetto lovely and relaxed when not playing loud in the outer sections, and against expectation he plays the trio in a slow if loud fashion. The Rondo is generally lyrical and flowing, though Kane spices things up with some potent fortissimo playing and fun rubato. Op 78 follows. The opening movement is more or less conventional with a few standard interpretive devices thrown in (eg, quite loud sforzandi), and the Allegro vivace is on the generally swift side. Op 79 starts with a quick, clear, staccato laden Presto all tedesca, moves to a lovely and subdued Andante, and ends with an energetic Vivace. Not bad. The opening movement for Op 81a is a raucous, sometimes rough goodbye, with a few tender passages. The second movement is often tetchy, especially in the first portion, and it ends in very well done pianissimo resignation. The final movement is ebullient if a bit rough-hewn, though that's not necessarily a negative. Op 90 starts with a first movement that is slow, and while it has some loud, biting playing, it sounds more depressed than angry. The second movement is slow and steady, with a nicely lyrical and often very quiet sound, interrupted by loud outbursts to good effect.

The eighth disc is devoted to the first two of the last five sonatas. Op 101 starts with a fairly direct Allegretto ma non troppo. It doesn't establish a transcendent sound, really, but it sounds good, and Kane once again adds some potent forte playing. In the march, Kane's penchant for powerful sforzandi pays dividends, and he plays with a nice enough rhythmic drive, though some roughness can be heard. The Adagio has just about the right tempo but lacks a transcendent sound. The final movement is taken at a deliberate tempo. It lacks the clarity and drive of better versions and seems quite careful in approach. Op 106 starts with a slow Allegro that comes in at over twelve-and-a-half minutes. The fastest and loudest passages, while sounding a bit shaky and rough at times, generate ample energy and Kane's penchant for hammering out loud music works here, too. The slower passages sound more plain and cautious, but the movement is more engaging than one might expect. The Scherzo sounds a bit swifter and more scampering, but otherwise displays the same basic traits. The Adagio is about middle of the road overall in tempo terms at just over eighteen minutes. Despite the tempo, the playing retains something of a sense of urgency, but it never really seems to delve deep and in some passages seems like a run-through. The finale movement starts with a Largo that starts subdued and slow, becomes more agitated and a bit gruff, and then moves to a fugue that is nicely paced but not especially clear and sometimes it sounds a bit ragged. Energy flags a bit at times, but the movement maintains its forward drive. Overall, neither sonata rates with the greats. The recorded sound for the disc is a bit better, with an improved perspective.

Disc nine ends the cycle with the final trio. Kane opens 109 with a swift Vivace ma non troppo, once again displaying some soft playing, but it is fairly light. Predictably, he also belts out the loudest portions of the Prestissimo with gusto and almost rushes through parts of the movement. The final movement opens with a lovely Andante theme that sounds more elevated and transcendent. The first variation keeps most of the feel, but the gruff left hand playing subtracts a bit. The second variation sounds a bit too slow, and though the pianissimo playing is spectacularly quiet, it sounds sort of contrived. The third variation sounds quite rushed, though the fourth moves back to a more transcendent sound, which is mostly maintained in the fifth, though some stodgy left hand playing again detracts a bit. The concluding variation, though, returns firmly to the soundworld and approach of the opening theme. Op 110 also starts swift and light, with some more gruff left hand playing. It's not bad, but it is more middle period in style. The Allegro molto is fast and potent and close to rushed in places. The final movement starts off with a first arioso section sounds searching and slightly tense, the fugue is a bit slow but clearer than expected, the second arioso is darker hued than the first, the repeated chord transition predictably powerful at the end, and the inverted fugue much like the fugue. Overall, the sonata is slightly better than 109. Op 111 starts off with potent, striking Maestoso with one notable fudge, indicating that this is not a sliced and diced set, and then it moves into an Allegro that is nicely paced, with strong sforzandi, in the faster passages, though the playing does not seem ideally secure. Kane opens the second movement with an extremely slow Arietta, to the point that it nearly becomes static. Somehow, though, it works. The effect isn't as positive in the similarly slow first variation. The second variation speeds up, and Kane plays with rubato and syncopation that at times makes it sound like a slow-motion boogie-woogie variation. He then pushes the third variation quite a bit, adopting the nearly reckless approach at times, though he also slows down in places, too, and either drops some notes in one place, or plays them as a blob with others in one place - it's kind of hard to tell. Kane's penchant for pianissimo playing comes in handy in a few places thereafter, including soft, slow "little stars" that sound dreamy. Likewise, while not the steadiest and most even chains of trills, Kane's soft touch pays off in those, too. The sonata takes a while to get to the Elysian Fields. The sonata is the best of the late sonatas.

The first openly amateur cycle in my collection sounds amateur in terms of sonics and more than occasionally in terms of execution. That written, it's not the worst cycle I've heard, and it's roughly on par with some other obscure, self-published cycles in terms of sound and accomplishment. It reminds of Steven Herbert Smith's cycle most of all. I can't really recommend the cycle to anyone other than hardcore cycle collectors. Ultimately, it's a fourth tier cycle, though it may border on third tier for certain sonatas (eg, Opp 26, 31/3, 57; Op 7 is probably even relatively better). It's more consistent than the fellow, recent fourth tier set from Sebastien Forster, though it doesn't peak as high, and it's more enjoyable and individual than Martin Rasch.
 
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It took a good long while - since early 2005 when I caught the LvB sonata cycle bug - but I've finally arrived at the destination of my personal journey: I possess a copy of all but one single-pianist complete cycle available to the public since I started my journey. To be sure, I do not possess a copy of every cycle - some disappeared and have never been reissued (eg, Michael Steinberg) and some have never been issued on CD (eg, Robert Riefling) - and I knowingly dropped the ball on Shoko Sugitani's cycle (the but one), though I expect it to be reissued in 2020 or 2027. Now, I just have to keep up with complete cycles when they appear. In the case of this, Michael Houstoun's first complete cycle, recorded for Morrison Trust, I have some prior experience. Many moons ago I purchased the last volume devoted to the late sonatas as MP3 downloads and listened few times, but I foolishly did not back up the hard drive the files were stored on, so I lost the files, and I misplaced the burned MP3-to-WAV converted CD-Rs, so I ended up rebuying the set. I decided to go the MP3 route for this complete cycle because only three of the sets are available in physical media form, and then only at high prices. I was able to purchase the MP3 files from a boutique vendor named Amazon, which also keeps the files stored on AWS, so now I will not have to worry about losing the files. I actually didn't have to buy the set as Amazon makes the whole cycle available for streaming, and this may very well be available for streaming on other services, but I wanted to possess my own set so I can use the files on any device, or transfer to optical disc or flash memory and listen without being online. It also will make extensive A/Bs with Houstoun's later Rattle cycle handy in the event I want to do extensive A/Bs. In any event, it was time to listen to the last cycle I will buy for a (short) while. I write that with full knowledge that Llŷr Williams’ cycle will be released in about a month’s time (at the time of writing), that Yoshihiro Kondo is only one disc away from completing his cycle, and that other complete cycles may drop at any time, as with Martin Rasch's.

Starting in with the Op 2 sonatas, Houstoun starts in on the first sonata with a fast, pointed, very energetic, and lean sounding Allegro. The playing is high on excitement but not so high on subtlety. Houstoun keeps the Adagio fairly snappy, and the Menuetto is filled with hints of fire. The Prestissimo is basically a combination of speed and fire in one of the most intense versions played by mortals. (Annie Fischer arguably goes further, but as she is a saint, there's no need to compare.) An outstanding opener. The second sonata starts off with a lean, energetic Allegro vivace. Houstoun plays with nice clarity, and while his left hand playing is by no means anemic, the right hand dominates, cutting through to reach one's ears. The Largo is played at a slow tempo, though it's far from sluggish, though it doesn't go too deep, instead maintaining a more classical reserve. The Scherzo is light and playful in the outer sections and nicely fiery in the middle section, while the Rondo is light, bright, and energetic with the middle section again forceful and fiery. The third sonata opens brisk and light, and then Houstoun plays the second section with blistering speed and maybe too compressed dynamics (and it's not just the recording). Or not. The playing is not subtle, but it demands attention. It's virtuosic showboating and muscle-flexing. The slow, tense Adagio moves forward with a grinding sense of inevitability, which the potent but not thundering left hand tolling notes reinforces. It hints at middle period Beethoven. The Scherzo is all high-speed forward momentum in the outer sections and almost the same, in a forcefully lyrical way, in the middle section. The sonata ends with an Allegro assai possessed of no little energy and unyielding forward drive, though Houstoun never plays it too heavy. And excellent first disc.

The second disc is devoted to the Op 10 trio. Houstoun opens the first sonata with a very fast overall Allegro molto e con brio with blazing fast ascending arpeggios, generating ample excitement, and he never really lets up in what is a borderline relentless opener. Relentless can be good. Houstoun plays the Adagio molto at slow tempo, maintains a nice bit of tension, and hammers out some passages. The somewhat metallic tone prevents the playing from sounding really lovely, but it's attractive. The Finale is very much like the opening movement, though it calls into question whether the first movement itself was actually Prestissimo. The second sonata starts with another very fast movement, with the Allegro sounding very Presto or Prestissimo, and while Houstoun does not play the music with too much power or speed, its lightness is presented with a sort of humorous aggression. That's meant as praise. The Allegretto is suitably slower, but sounds slightly labored and exaggerated, obviously for effect. The Presto, with repeat, is predictably fast and energetic and fun, though not light. In Op 10/3, Houstoun starts off by playing the Presto at a very brisk pace, and he makes sure to deliver left hand accents with some bite. Right hand accents, too. He just rocks right through the movement. Houstoun backs way off in the Largo, playing the opening of the movement in very slow, dramatic fashion, and taking 11'07 to do the whole thing. Houstoun takes his time with much of the music, building slowly to the climax. The Menuetto is more relaxed and flowing in the outer sections, and more forceful in the middle with a blunt transition. The work closes with a Rondo that sounds suitably light and fun to start, but which also finds Houstoun playing with not a little muscle in some sections. He delivers a strong Op 10 trio. Here I decided to do an A/B with Houstoun's later recording when doing the first listen. The Rattle cycle is in much better sound, and not just because of the difference between MP3 and proper 16 bit. Houstoun's tone is richer, darker, and bigger. The Presto takes about eight seconds longer in this take, and it doesn't sound as forcefully driven, with Houstoun sounding more comfortable and flexible. There is greater clarity of voices, as well. In the later Largo, Houstoun shaves off nearly a minute from the timing, and the music starts off and remains both slightly tenser and more tonally attractive, though it never sounds beautiful just to sound beautiful. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.) As in the first recording, Houstoun takes his time building up to the climax, and with the much fuller sounding bass, it ends up sounding more dramatic in the buildup but perhaps not as comparatively satisfying at the destination, though this is a nitpicking critique. As in the first movement, the timings are a few seconds slower in both the Menuetto and Rondo, and both sound more tonally attractive and flexible in delivery. Both versions are very well done, with more fire and energy in the early recording, and more weight and clarity and flexibility in the later recording. In this instance, I prefer the latter just a bit, but clearly it's best to have both versions.

The third disc in the volume starts off with the Op 49 sonatas. Both are a bit more firm and assertive than average, yet Houstoun doesn't crush the works, and he backs off a bit in the outer sections of the second movement of the second sonata. Op 7 follows. Here, Houstoun plays with a nice forward drive, though nothing too hasty, and he peppers his playing with near bone-crunching fortissimo chords on more than a few occasions. The Largo ends up sounding much the same, only slower. Houstoun keeps up the assertive playing in the Allegro, with a middle section that fairly growls. The Rondo is pretty leisurely much of the time, and flows nicely enough in much of the outer sections, but even in those sections Houstoun plays with some real oomph, and the middle section he breathes musical fire. The recording is certainly long on excitement, but a bit short on subtlety. The Pathétique ends the first trio of discs. Houstoun starts the somewhat quick and tense Grave with a weighty and dark opening chord before adding a bit more bite to some of the playing. The Allegro di molto e con brio is a no foolin' around, high speed, high voltage affair, with heavy, repeated left hand accents and rubato used to rush things along a bit more, and the loudest ffff near the end is deliciously ear-splitting. Houstoun plays the Adagio cantabile in more restrained fashion, naturally enough, and even plays with a nice cantabile style, but even in this movement he adds dashes of strength and tension. The concluding Rondo is fast, potent, with not a little cutting right hand playing. This is another excitement over subtlety interpretation, but it works quite well here, thank you.

The fourth disc contains three youthful ditties starting with the Op 14 sonatas. The Op 14 sonata is light in demeanor but beefy in delivery, with some industrial strength left-hand arpeggios in the first movement and some effective and contained rubato in the final movement, while the slow movement is serious and formal. It's not great, but's it's very proper and entertaining. The second Op 14 sonata starts with an Allegro that adds a bit of lyricism to Houstoun's speedy, powerful playing, moves to a second movement Andante theme and variations characterized by steady rhythm and some poke-in-the-ribs sforzandi, and concludes with a super-zippy Scherzo. The Op 22 sonata starts with an Allegro con brio displaying constant forward motion, clean articulation, lots of oomph, and even more energy. Houstoun backs off in the Adagio. He keeps it tense, and he plays a few passages with power, but it is mostly lyrical and serious. The middle section adds a bit of subdued drama to the mix. The Menuetto is plucky in the outer sections while the middle is predictably fiery. The Rondo has plenty of energy, but Houstoun also puts his stamp on it with some personal rubato and some nearly gooey legato for a few phrases. They're little details, and they work nicely. And, quite expectedly, he plays the middle section with intensity and extra-speedy playing. It's a splendid version of the early sonata presented in an unabashedly extroverted manner.

Disc five is devoted to the critical Op 31 trio. Houstoun opens the Allegro vivace with unlimited vivace, and while he does play some passages with slight halts, this is a high energy take with oodles of energy and Houstoun is not afraid to belt out passages. The Adagio grazioso is taken at a relaxed sounding 10'18", and Houstoun deploys some mock clumsy and/or stuttering playing to superb effect, and his trills and runs sound quite excellent. The middle section has cleaner playing underpinned by an almost machine-like consistency from the left hand and perfectly judged sforzandi from the right, and near the end Houstoun growls out the bass trills. Good stuff. The Rondo starts off lyrical, but quickly becomes more boisterous and fun. Houstoun plays with wonderful clarity of voices, sometimes making the bass line dominate, and sometimes making the right hand sound almost spontaneous. This is one of the highlights of the cycle. Since this sonata is one of the highlights of the Rattle cycle as well, I decided to do an A/B here. The Allegro vivace comes in twenty seconds slower than the first recording, and this allows Houstoun to play each note in runs with greater clarity, and he imparts a sense of mock-clumsiness to some of the playing in this movement, underpinned by weightier bass. It's more leisurely fun. The Adagio grazioso comes in at only three seconds longer than the earlier version, but the opening sounds notably slower and more relaxed and lovelier, and rather lazy, but all to the good. The trills are more deliberate but more lovely, and as the piece progresses, some playing becomes clumsier yet. Though the tone is richer and weightier, the playing is lighter throughout, and the right hand playing is sort of ethereal at times, while the greater bass in the recording helps deliver really nifty bass trills near the end. The Rondo, taken on its own, is energetic and fun, but in comparison to the earlier recording it sounds less relentlessly energetic and more flowing and warm and fun. I marginally prefer the latter recording, but it is clear that Houstoun has this sonata dialed in. In Der Sturm, Houstoun opens the Largo with slower than normal playing of some reserve. He then launches into an Allegro characterized by bite and intensity. The contrasts might be slightly exaggerated, but that only helps. The Adagio is slow and mostly calm and reserved. Houstoun plays some passages with oomph, and the overall effect is quite nice. The Allegretto opens sounding somewhat like a searing yet lyrical lament, moves to more fiery playing, and then goes back and forth at a steady tempo to the end. Excellent. In the third sonata, Houstoun opens the Allegro in slow and restrained style, and it's not until the development that he picks up the pace. Even then the playing is not especially fast, though it does display wit and verve enough to satisfy. The Scherzo moves along at a nice clip, with nice dynamic swings, pokey bass, and humorous outbursts. Houstoun plays the outer sections of the Menuetto in quite serious fashion, and with not a little pianistic loveliness, while the middle section is a bit more tumultuous. He closes out with a Presto con fuoco played with plenty of drive and energy and fun, yet the overall sonata is not up to the level as the first two. Still, he delivers an excellent overall Op 31 trio.

Disc six opens with the Waldstein. Houstoun opens the Allegro con brio fast and quiet, doing pianissimo right, and then proceeds to play the louder music that follows with a nice degree of energy and speed. The fastest passages are not crazy fast, and some of the slower music has more of a poetic, touching sound to it. It's not all barnstorming. The Introduzione is slow, somber, introspective, and morose. It's in the spirit of the middle movement of Les Adieux. Nice. The concluding Rondo starts off with Houstoun again doing a fine job playing pianissimo, then he trills his way to boisterous, potent playing, with some chords belted out with a nice degree of forcefulness. It may not be the subtlest way to do it, but it's quite good. There's an at times quite celebratory feel, and the coda is both potent and happy. Op 90 follows. Houstoun is not shy about belting out the loud chords or playing the quieter music with a sense of anguish or the runs with a sense of urgency. No soft or transcendent near-late LvB here, just a satisfyingly tense take. The second movement is mostly flowing and lyrical, though Houstoun doesn't completely shake some sharper loud playing. It works very well, and it indicates that the pianist might be able to deliver some hard-hitting Schubert were he so inclined. Next is the second of the sonatas quasi una fantasia. The Adagio sostenuto is slow, steady, and darkly hued; the Allegretto is weighty and rich with a somewhat forcefully yet gently rocking rhythm; and the Presto agitato, fortified by at times nicely weighty bass and piercing right hand sforzandi, rumbles right on through to the end. Rock solid. For whatever reason, the metadata for the set names 27/1 Der Vampyr, its über-obscure nickname. The disc closer starts off with a slightly brisk, lovely Andante, moves to a not too fast but nicely pointed Allegro, which rolls into an Allegro molto e vivace that is not particularly fast but which displays nice dynamic contrasts and weight, and ends with a hefty coda. Houstoun then moves to an Adagio con espressione of not a little beauty, which then, via metallic trills and a slow fade out, transitions to an Allegro vivace of some drive and oomph and nice dynamic contrasts, which more or less is expected at this point, and he ends with a hyperfast coda. Another excellent performance.

Disc seven starts with the Appassionata. Houstoun starts quiet and tense, and you just know what's coming. His incisive playing, rhythmic drive, and power, with ample left hand weight, all make their appearance in the Allegro assai. Houstoun doesn't play the movement especially fast, instead opting to slow way down in the slow music to maximize contrasts with the climaxes. There's something so appealing about his cutting, almost harsh style that it invites one to turn the volume up a bit too much. The Andante theme is presented in a weighty, somewhat stately fashion, and the variations never stray far from that, though sometimes there's an appealing nervousness that creeps in, and the final arpeggio stings the ear. Houstoun then predictably starts the Allegro ma non troppo — Presto with ample drive and energy, but a somewhat restrained volume, only to let loose as the movement progresses, at just the right times, and in just the right amount – a lot. This is a cutting, grinding, intense closing movement. Given that this sonata is one of the highlights of Houstoun's Rattle set, it's not surprising that this earlier, more youthful version kicks ass. Next up is Op 26. He starts the piece off with a nice Andante theme and variations, with the Andante less stately than in the preceding Op 57, but then he makes it a point to play each variation as a distinct entity, spicing up the proceedings with either steady left hand playing or pointed left hand sforzandi, to excellent effect. The Scherzo is predictably fast and weighty and makes for a perfect bridge to the funeral march. Houstoun starts it off slow, almost to the point of exaggeration, though of the effective sort. It adds hints of drama. The solemnity and reserve married to the power makes it heroic. (It kind of makes me wonder what Houstoun could do with a piano reduction of Siegfried's Funeral March.) The concluding Allegro is dispatched with enough verve and relative lightness to make for a nice closer. Op 54 closes the disc. The minuet first theme is played with not a little loveliness, but one listens to Houstoun for the stabbing staccato, and he delivers in the triplets theme, playing like a pianistic pile-driver. (The playing again invites louder than normal volume.) The second movement is of the fast, but sane fast, variety, with plenty of oomph when and where appropriate. Very fine.

The eighth disc opens with Op 28. Houstoun plays the opening Allegro at a very Adagio pace to start and except for the more intense middle section and the extended right hand quaver passages, he keeps it slow through to the end. The Andante, on the other hand, is fairly brisk, with a firm but not overbearing staccato married to lyricism in a mostly quasi-intense, sometimes actually intense fashion, though the middle section sounds fun. The Scherzo is faster yet, with ample energy, with the middle even more so. The concluding Rondo has a nice blend of elements, with enough lyricism and intensity in the right places. The too slow opening movement aside, everything in the sonata is nice enough on its own, yet it doesn't jell for me. Les Adieux follows. Houstoun starts off with a dynamically wide ranging, at times introspective, at times extroverted reading. The second movement is forlorn, with both restrained passages and outbursts, and here and there Houstoun seems to shorten some note values, though the device works. The final movement is largely celebratory, with a few passages that sound a bit stiff, and ample bright right hand playing. Op 78 comes next, and here Houstoun scales up the piece a bit, making the opening movement sound almost like an extension of the Waldstein, and he turbo charges the Allegro vivace. Op 79 closes out the disc. Houstoun turbo charges the Presto alla tedesca, as well, zooming through it, though he gives the acciaccatura some love. He then plays the Andante with some real musical weight, almost turning it into a miniaturized Op 106 Adagio. The piece ends with a light and fun Vivace. Very nice. I like when a pianist delivers on the possibilities of this little gem.

The last two discs cover the last five sonatas, and this is the second copy of MP3s I had to buy since I never properly backed up the prior purchase and the files disappeared when the hard drive I kept the single copy on died. Op 101 starts off with an attractive Allegretto ma non troppo, and one that is sort of midway between a middle period approach and a more transcendent approach. The march is fast and incisive, with Houstoun finding reserves to go just that little bit louder when he's already playing loudly. The Adagio is attractive and slow, though I wouldn't have minded a bit smoother legato, but what's there is quite nice. The final movement is fast, clean, and displays more of Houstoun's powerful playing. It sounds more middle period than late, but the excitement factor is undeniable. The Hammerklavier opens with a slow, almost twelve minute Allegro. What it lacks in speed it makes up for in quasi-orchestral scale, though not color. Houstoun's forte and fortissimo playing is satisfying, with some right hand notes sharp and tart, but the quieter playing is a bit less satisfying, and the movement does start to drag a bit in the last quartet despite the high wattage playing. The Scherzo is a high wattage, high excitement take. The Adagio, at over twenty minutes, is a long one, and right from the start, Houstoun imparts a sense of sorrow. As the movement slowly unfolds, Houstoun ratchets up the intensity in some passages, and does an estimable job creating a cold, desolate sound and feel, and he peppers most of the rest of the movement with these last two approaches until the coda, which he extends out very nicely. The final movement starts with a somewhat quick sounding Largo, a quicker Allegro, and then after thundering chords and quickly dispatched trills moves to a quick, but not super-fast fugue, where Houstoun plays with admirable clarity. Again, the excitement factor is quite high throughout, the quasi-baroque passage excepted. Overall, it's quite good.

Houstoun opens the Vivace of Op 109 at a nicely brisk clip, and in adequately subdued overall feel, and then ratchets up volume in the Adagio section nicely, then alternates between the styles. The edge and power in his playing render it more middle-period sounding, or at least like tetchy late Beethoven. The Prestissimo is unsurprisingly powerful and pretty quick moving, though it seems more about momentum than sheer speed. The final movement opens with a nicely restrained and lyrical Andante theme that certainly sounds like elevated, transcendent late Beethoven. The first variation keeps up the same feel and presents the sonic illusion of being slower. The second variation starts with dry, pointed playing that points to the "little stars" of Op 111, then moves to more animated playing. The fastest playing in the third variation is more like a Presto vivace than Allegro vivace, and in the fourth variation Houstoun keeps the playing elevated. The fifth variation is mostly middle period fiery, and the concluding variation returns to the opening material nicely. Op 110 starts with a Moderato cantabile molto espressivo on the verge of not being moderate tempo-wise at times, though Houstoun keeps it satisfactorily lyrical, and the left hand playing dominates the proceedings at times with a sort of natural inevitability, and it is close to the degree of transcendence I prefer. Houstoun largely muscles his way through the Allegro molto, which is just fine. The final movement is split into two tracks here, with the first containing the first arioso. Houstoun plays it somberly and in suitably elevated fashion before moving to the serious fugue, which sounds processional at first, before building up in speed and intensity. The second arioso is much like the first, and it ends with repeated chords that build up nicely, though they are not played as powerfully as one would expect going in; instead, Houstoun offers a sort of hypnotic, processional, quite slow take on the chords. The inverted fugue starts off slow and quiet, unfurling nicely as it proceeds, ending in a potent coda. Op 111 opens with a weighty, cutting Maestoso and moves to an Allegro con brio ed appassionato of the powerful and fast variety, with especially pointed left hand sforzandi audible from time to time. Houstoun follows the intense opener with a very slow second movement that tops twenty minutes. He starts off with a very slow Arietta which only gets slower in the second half. It doesn't really sound transcendent so much as it just sounds slow. The first variation improves things a bit, though it remains quite slow, too. Things perk up a bit in the second variation, and a lot in the third, which the pianist delivers with much weight and drive. The rest of the sonata approaches a transcendent sound, with attractive if sort of brash "little stars" and some swelling dynamics that sort of dwarf some surrounding music. The chains of trills are nicely dispatched, and finally in the coda one hears hints of musical Elysium.

The pianist himself noted in the comments to his second cycle on Rattle that he had matured and developed a bigger, richer sonority, and that his interpretations evolved. That's certainly the truth. These two cycles offer a clear glimpse into the evolution of a pianist's style over one or two decades, and much more so than some other pianists have offered - Backhaus and Kempff, for instance, don't differ nearly as much in their late career styles - with probably the change in Barenboim's style over his three cycles being a closer analog. The younger Houstoun excels where speed and power and scale rule - Op 57, for instance. He generates ample excitement in many places, sometimes maybe a bit too much. His later cycle, which is a bit slower, though not by much, sounds richer and more flexible. He allows himself room to breathe. I didn't do a full A/B, and I doubt I ever do, but ultimately I'd call it something of a draw. Younger Houstoun is probably a bit better earlier on and in the big middle works where older Houstoun is better in the later sonatas and the smaller works. The second cycle is in better sound, though this is probably exaggerated slightly due to the difference in format. The relative overall qualitative equality means that this cycle is third tier, possibly high third tier, and the best performances here really can withstand comparison to Big Names. Obviously, for me, hearing the cycle was imperative, though I'd steer newcomers to the pianist’s new cycle.

This cycle makes a nice quasi-ending point for me. I'm done with complete cycles until a new one drops or one of the rare as hens' teeth cycles (eg, Riefling, Steinberg, Kladetzky, Varinska) pop up used in good condition.
 
Now that I'm done collecting cycles, however temporarily, I revisited and updated my personal ranking of cycles.

Top Tier – The Holy Tetrarchy
Annie Fischer (Hungarton)
Friedrich Gulda (Amadeo)
Wilhelm Kempff (DG, mono)
Wilhelm Backhaus (mono)

[Rudolf Serkin; no cycle]


Top Tier – The Rest of the Top Ten (sort of in order)
Wilhelm Kempff (DG, stereo)
Eric Heidsieck
Russell Sherman
Andrea Lucchesini
Emil Gilels
Daniel-Ben Pienaar

[Sviatoslav Richter; no cycle]


Second Tier (in no particular order)
Artur Schnabel
Bernard Roberts
Claude Frank
Daniel Barenboim (EMI, 2005)
Eduardo del Pueyo
Francois Frederic Guy
Friedrich Gulda (Orfeo)
Kazune Shimizu (Sony)
Maurizio Pollini
Michael Levinas
Paul Badura-Skoda (JVC/Astree; possible Top 10 Contender)
Peter Takacs
Robert Silverman
Rudolf Buchbinder (Unitel)
Seymour Lipkin
Takahiro Sonoda (Denon)
Takahiro Sonoda (Evica; possible Top 10 Contender)
Wilhelm Backhaus (stereo)
Younwha Lee
Yu Kosuge
Yusuke Kikuchi

[Bruce Hungerford; no cycle]


Third Tier (in no particular order)
Abdel Rahman El Bacha (Mirare)
Akiyoshi Sako
Alfred Brendel (Philips, 1970s)
Alfred Brendel (Vox)
Alfredo Perl
Andras Schiff
Claudio Arrau (1960s)
Claudio Arrau (1980s)
Craig Sheppard
Daniel Barenboim (DG)
Daniel Barenboim (EMI, 1960s)
David Allen Wehr
Dieter Zechlin
Friedrich Gulda (Decca)
Garrick Ohlsson
Gerard Willems
Gerhard Oppitz
Ian Hobson
Ichiro Nodaira (possible second tier)
Irina Mejoueva
John O'Conor
Kun-Woo Paik
Louie Lortie
Malcolm Binns (borderline fourth tier)
Michael Houstoun (Rattle)
Michael Houstoun (Morrison Trust)
Michael Korstick
Paul Badura-Skoda (Gramola)
Pavaali Jumppanen
Peter Rösel
Rudolf Buchbinder (Teldec)
Sequeira Costa
Stephen Kovacevich
Stewart Goodyear
Wilhelm Kempff (1961, King International)
Yaeko Yamane
Yves Nat


Fourth Tier (in no particular order)
Abdel Rahman El Bacha (Forlane)
Aldo Ciccolini
Alfred Brendel (Philips, 1990s)
Andre De Groote
Anton Kuerti
Christian Leotta
Dino Ciani
Georges Pludermacher
Idil Biret
Ikuyo Nakamichi
Jean Bernard Pommier
Jean-Efflam Bavouzet
Jean Muller
Jeno Jando
John Kane
John Lill
Mari Kodama
Maria Grinburg
Martin Rasch
Melodie Zhao
Paul Lewis
Robert Benz
Richard Goode
Ronald Brautigam
Robert Taub
Rudolf Buchbinder (RCA)
Sebastian Forster
Steven Herbert Smith
Steven Masi
Timothy Ehlen
Vladimir Ashkenazy
Walter Gieseking (Tahra)
Yukio Yokoyama


Bottom Tier (in sorta particular order)
[Glenn Gould; no cycle, thankfully]
HJ Lim
Rita Bouboulidi
Tatiana Nikolayeva
Anne Oland
 
Surveying what else is out there, I've broken the remaining cycles that I am aware of into different categories. The dead cycles list may very well be incomplete.

Complete/In the Can
Llyr Williams
Tamami Honma


Complete/Never Issued In Full
Hiroaki Ooi
Robert Silverman (AudioHigh)


Multiple Pianists/No Interest
Malcolm Bilson, etc
St.Petersburg Collective


OOP
Daniela Varinska
Gotthard Kladetzky
Michael Steinberg
Robert Riefling
Shoko Sugitani
Walter Gieseking (EMI, incomplete)


Fakes (?)/Questionable
Alicja Kot
Claudio Colombo
Giancarlo Andretti
Joyce Hatto (aka, altered John O'Conor)
Shisei Hanai
Vladimir Morrone


Dead Cycles
Bruno Leonardo Gelber
Giovanni Belluci
Mitsutaka Shiraishi
Muriel Chemin
Per Tengstrand


Ongoing - buying as released
Angela Hewitt
Jonathan Biss
Saleem Abboud Ashkar


Ongoing - others
Akihiro Sakiya
David Ezra Okonsar
Davide Cabassi
Igor Tchetuev
James Brawn
Kazune Shimizu (II)
Letizia Michielon
Martin Roscoe
Maurizio Paciariello
Yoshihiro Kondo
 



Last year saw the first volume Ashkar's cycle, and it was excellent. This year brings the second volume, though it is of the single disc variety, making me wonder if the whole cycle will be released in only four volumes. That's irrelevant, of course. To the music.

The disc opens with 10/2. Ashkar plays the opening Allegro with playfulness and energy aplenty, and his Bechstein sounds tangy up high, though just shy of edgy. Ashkar's articulation and precision, and the at times snazzy sounding decay of the instrument, really juice things up. The Allegretto is then played in slow, controlled, perhaps slightly exaggerated fashion, but the effect is splendid. Ashkar then plays the Presto with real pep and some nice rhythm and dynamic control. He makes sure to keep the repeat, which is all to the very good. This is a world-class version of the sonata.

Next comes Op 57. The Bechstein low frequencies don't offer the same imposing heft that Steinways or Bösendorfers can, but the more controlled tone is not unattractive, and as the movement unfolds, Ashkar's playing maintains nice tension throughout, and if it never explodes and achieves the type of power of some versions, it's somewhat weightier than primo middleweight versions like Lipkin's. It's a more refined light-heavyweight take, I suppose, with some passages of tonal attractiveness thrown in, the left hand playing is nicely insistent and consistent. Ashkar adopts a somewhat relaxed tempo and feel in the Andante con moto, and here the bass notes take on something of a tightened up, beefed up fortepiano sound. The right hand playing is quite lovely, and though it doesn't dominate, the left hand playing just keeps drawing the listener's attention. The closing Allegro is a speedy, punchy affair, with the crisp, almost brittle upper registers adding some pleasant sting, and the middle and lower registers coming at the listener. Ashkar pulls back for a respite near the end before running up to the coda. Superb.

The disc closes with Op 111. The Maeastoso sounds satisfyingly dark and almost sinister, and the Bechstein bass adds enough spice to catch the ear. The Allegro is satisfyingly quick and forward moving, if not as intense or clear as some others. That's not to say that Ashkar is a slouch in those areas. The movement is never slow, but at 9'30", it's not especially fast, and then Ashkar then goes for a lengthy 19'32" second movement, bringing the whole thing in at just under a generous half-hour. The Arietta is slow, and the Bechstein decay imparts a different sound, with more space between notes and chords, aided by Ashkar's measured tempo. It's doesn't go super deep, but it is solemn. The first two variations, too. The third variation is less notable for its rhythmic swagger than for it's sharp accents and wide dynamics and hard-hitting fortissimo playing. The fourth variation starts off at a somewhat louder than normal volume, bubbling along for a bit, before transitioning to a more elevated style, with delicate but not moving "little stars", some fine trills, with the playing immediately before the second chain of trills uncommonly biting, and the ending is somewhat direct and blunt, though still quite attractive. Intriguingly, though long, the movement seems shorter than its length implies. So, Ashkar's 111, while very good, represents something a step down in terms of comparative quality. That written, it's still very high quality.
 
This site contains affiliate links for which pink fish media may be compensated.
Just a word of thanks to Todd for bringing the various cycles to my/our attention (currently listening to Gilels).
 


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