Schubertiade

[Todd A]

Jorge Bolet is one of the grand old pianists who recorded a fair amount and did generally good or excellent work. His late-career Decca Liszt recordings demonstrate his affinity for the composer and are quite nice. Better are his RCA and Ensayo recordings, which were issued in an RCA box for a brief time, where Bolet plays with more fire and brilliance. I wasn't really looking for anything from him, but when this reissue of his late-career Decca Schubert popped up for next to nothing, I decided to give it a shot.

The disc opens with D959. Bolet starts with an Allegro characterized by steady and stately tempo, reserve, and some very clear playing that simultaneously sounds a bit chunky and excessively sober. The Andantino is broad of tempo and both somber and lyrical, but the reserve hampers it. Bolet's Scherzo is too stiff and chunky in the outer sections, though the trio is quite fine. Things end well enough with a Rondo that glides along with an attractive if reserved lyricism. So, a decent reading.

D784 closes the disc, and Bolet displays the same traits. The reserve remains, and the somewhat chunky sound turns stiff here, and when combined with curiously limited dynamics, yields an anemic Allegro, robbed of drama. The Andante is generally nice, and the Allegro vivace manages to be both appealing in its way, but it's also more Andante than Allegro. It's too slow and enervated, and the lack of dynamic contrasts renders a less than fully satisfying ending.

Less than fully satisfying is the best way to describe the disc as a whole. Rarely has the word "meh" been as useful when assessing this disc. I'm glad I got it cheap.


Amazon UK link (standard Decca reissue): https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00000E463/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21

 

[Todd A]

Ending the latest batch of Schubert recordings with the one I've owned the longest. I'm a big fan of Alexander Lonquich, so I was predisposed to like this set. I also happen to like his older Schubert recordings that I've listened to via YouTube, so all signs pointed to a fine twofer. Lonquich handily exceeded expectations and delivered one of my purchases of 2018. I decided, after multiple most enjoyable listens, to scribble about it.

I generally cover pieces as they are presented on disc, but here I'm starting with highest highlight of the set, one of the greatest recordings of D959 I've heard. Possibly the greatest. Lonquich starts with loud and powerful forte chords, which also sound broad of tempo and large of scale. He brings the movement in at 17'50", so energized, speedy drama is not what the playing is all about. It's more about clean articulation, supreme clarity, wide-ranging dynamics, with incredibly fine differentiation at all levels - why shouldn't p have at least ten fluidly variably levels? It's also about a second theme that while highly lyrical, sort of sounds deconstructed, a gorgeous and searching musical breakdown of each and every constituent part. Lonquich, as in all his recordings, plays with strongly individual ideas. He doesn't hold back on personal rubato or accents, not at all. Indeed, he weaves them seamlessly into the musical fabric throughout. Nary a bar goes by without him inserting his personality. The playing is beautiful or fierce (or an approximation of fierce) where it should be. The Andantino starts off daringly slow, with Lonquich playing the melody in a largely jagged staccato style, especially with the right hand. The awesome clarity sounds awesomer when he obviously desynchronizes the hands, with continuous, miniature melodic blocks the occasional result. Lonquich fires things up in the middle section, thundering out playing. The end of the section and transition again slows things down, with dynamic and tempo reductions that heighten the drama that preceded it. The repeat of the first theme is a bit quicker and more forlorn than the first presentation of the material. Nice. The Scherzo continues on an intriguing mix of jagged playing and lyricism that works quite well. The middle section is especially effective in its striking dynamic shifts. In the Rondo, Lonquich plays with a more unaffected lyricism, though he can't help from deploying rubato and personal (micro-) tweaks to note values here, there, and everywhere. The movement sounds generally lighter in tone and more fluid than the rest of the sonata. That's not to write that he neglects intensity in the middle section, because he plays with ample oomph. While I very often prefer my Schubert on the more purely lyrical side overall, with shades of darkness pervading the late sonatas, in particular, Lonquich's approach is unique and backed by exceptionally fine playing. There are, of course, many fine recordings of this work, but I don't know if I can say any are better. I would be tempted to say this is a potential long-term reference for modern, SOTA sound sets, but Arcadi Volodos is out there, performing this very sonata. If he lays down a studio version, it may set a new and different standard. Until that day hopefully arrives (hopefully very soon), this will be my go-to for current versions.

Moving back to D958, Lonquich launches the opening Allegro with potent, quasi-mini-orchestral chords and a perfectly judged tempo, evoking a bit of drive and oomph. It's entirely and eminently satisfying. But it's the slow second theme and the transitions where the magic happens. Yes, there may be even better executed scales out there, though I can't think of any. This is how to transition. And then the slow music is very slow, filled with micro-pauses and personal note value changes, and replete with so many dynamic gradations that one almost wants to measure them. (Really, the mezzo-piano to mezzo-forte range is superbly rendered, with even shadings shaded.) None of this would really matter much if it were not for the lyrical and tonal beauty married to an almost fantastic sound world. It is entirely possible to find the playing too mannered, but mannerism makes the music here. The Adagio ends up mixing a slow, somber, contemplative sound with passages of no little intensity. A neat little trick that Lonquich uses involves desynchronizing hands when playing some ascending volume sforzandi. It lends a certain controlled frenzy feel to things. Lonquich's almost crazy clarity also lends a simultaneously controlled and unmoored feel to the music. The Menuetto might almost be considered too mannered. The outer Allegro sections are just nifty in terms of energy and drive, but the trio is laden with so much rubato that some might find it distracting. That written, the terraced dynamics between left and right hand, and that awesome clarity, offer unique rewards all their own. The Allegro possesses more forward drive and rhythmic snap than the preceding movement, but what continues to stand out is the clarity and the dynamic control. Here, it's the swelling fortes, anchored by beefy but pristine left hand playing, that really catch the ear, at least until some of the gentle quiet right hand playing manages to dominate, despite its gentleness. The playing doesn't flow in the best, most lyrical way, but it doesn't matter a whit.

In D960, Lonquich goes for the super-long Molto moderato approach, taking just shy of twenty-four minutes to finish it. He keeps the pulse pretty steady, though he can't help but throw in personal rubato and occasionally, and most effectively, accent certain bass notes. The bass trills are nearly exaggerated, and some silences and note values most definitely are; those who dislike agogics for interpretive effect will find much to dislike. Me, I like, especially if it's well done. That written, the movement often seems to lack a core, or to possess the emotional weight of some readings; it often seems to be abount momentary effect. Typically, I prefer dark 'n' dismal takes on the sonata, with a first movement weighting, but in some instances, as here, that doesn't matter as much. It matters much less when the Andante becomes the center of the work, as it most certainly does in this recording. Again, Lonquich does not go for a particularly fluid, lyrical style in the outer sections, instead relying on agogics and rubato to create a dark, introspective soundworld, made the more so when he plays softly. It's really quite masterful. The middle section stays on the slow side, but the insistent left hand playing and darkly tuneful right hand playing offers a contrast from the music before and after. And in the return of the opening material, Lonquich adds some additional dynamic contrast, this time more on the louder end, to super dramatic effect. He opens the Scherzo lightly and gently, and rapidly increases volume and tension to just right levels, and closes with a nearly conventional Allegro ma non troppo. He still finds time to vary dynamics nicely, especially on the pianissimo to piano end of the spectrum, and he plays with more rhythmic steadiness much of the time. The playing is largely shorn of emotional baggage, as is delivered most handsomely.

The twofer ends with D946. Lonquich changes approaches here, going for a straight-forward quick, potent opening before backing way off for a slow, darker middle section, which is prone to some nicely timed and perfectly executed forte outbursts. The transition back to the first theme is masterful, almost to a Karsian level. Quasi-Karsian is the slow second piece. Lonquich does play with admirable tonal refinement, as well as some more nicely accented bass notes, but it's earthbound compared to Kars. When compared to most other pianists, Lonquich's take is extra-spiffy, though. Relatively best of all is the third piece. Smaller and shorter than its predecessors, in many full sets, it seems like a lesser composition, but Lonquich lavishes the same attention on all aspects of the playing, making sure to hammer out the middle section to great effect.

Alexander Lonquich is one of those pianists I just seem to enjoy all the more for his individual, idiosyncratic interpretations, backed up by stellar playing. This latest Schubert twofer does not disappoint. Now, if only Warner will see fit to reissue his 90s recordings in a handy-dandy box one day.


Amazon UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07GW2LWSS/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21

 

[Todd A]

Time for another new to me pianist. Russian Georgy Tchaidze has the educational and competition background one rather expects nowadays, and I was able to pick up a couple of his discs for a pittance. One was this all-Schubert recital. Certainly, one can hear Mr Tchaidze's highly developed technique and ability starting with D664, which sounds suitably lyrical and tonally attractive, and one can detect hints of harder hitting Schubert, which certainly come to the fore in the later works. One needn't wait until the opening bar of D946 to hear the harder-hitting, speedier Schubert. Tchaidze flies through the outer sections of the first movement, playing with energy and rhythmic bounce, and some lyricism, but it sound like surface treatment. The Andante is played in much slower, more somber fashion, with dramatic pauses, or rather, pauses meant to sound more dramatic than they do. The Allegretto is played fast, but not too fast, and sounds almost relentless in its forward drive. Ditto the Allegro. Probably more so. Not surprisingly, the Wanderer Fantasie ends up being a fast 'n' furious sort of take, and the pianist doesn't skimp on scale. It's a bracing if not particularly deep take. The D935 Allegretto closes out the disc, and it's more or less in line with what came before. Tchaidze can certainly play, and the recital is nice, but it's not something I've not heard before.



Amazon UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B005ME7DYU/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21

 

[Todd A]

From the Anne Queffélec big box, two discs' worth of four hands music with Imogen Cooper lending a hand. Well, two in this instance. The twofer starts with the F minor Fantasia, D940. Queffélec and Cooper play the piece smartly. With a heavy emphasis on both melody and clarity, the slightly small-scaled conception cruises along. While small-scaled may seem something of a negative description, it is not meant to be, for so in tune with each other are the two pianists, that some of the highlights occur when they delve into the quieter sections. The recurring main theme is likewise well handled, and the Scherzo is spritely. Nice. The Allegro, D947 is similarly scaled, but offers more contrast. The duo belt out the opening material in nicely stormy fashion, but back off to a very dreamy, at times Beethoven-y second theme. There's also some plain old spunky playing interspersed with the stormier music. The Six Polonaises, D824, all have a nice combination of melodic loveliness and rhythmic verve, with the third especially nice. The Variations on an Original Theme, D813 is appealing and somewhat thick of texture. An original theme it may be, but Beethoven's 7th makes an appearance in the fifth variation.

The second disc opens with the Grand Duo, D812. The mammoth scale of the piece and the sometimes heavy going mean that I rarely listen to this work. While Queffélec and Cooper dispense with some of the heaviness, they do not make me think that the piece couldn't use some trimming. That written, they do manage to make the piece seem to go by a bit quicker than normal. While not actually an unscored symphony, the piece certainly has gestures not always found in keyboard works, and the duo are able to bring out multiple voices at once, keeping multiple lines going in the Allegro moderato. The Andante offers more chances for Schubertian lyricism, but the proto-Lisztian scale prevents that from happening. Having four hands rather than two makes the Scherzo sound most enjoyable, in what sounds like a cousin to the String Quintet. While everything to this point sounds fine, it's the Finale where the duo, and the music, come alive, with more drive and energy and fun. This work will never be a favorite for me, but Queffélec and Cooper do fine work. Things get back to more standard Schubertian goodness in the following Rondo D951, with weight married to lyricism in perfect proportion, and small hints of Beethoven influence weaved in nicely. The Three Marches militaires, D733 come off well, all vibrant energy and march-like rhythm. Slight but fun. Fortunately, things conclude with the Andantino and Variations D823. Short and lovely, tuneful and dark-ish, this new to me work really hits the spot. This is some serious Schubert. I think it only makes sense to try another version. I mean, there is that newest reissue of Tal & Groethuysen covering all of Schubert's four hand works. Hmm. Anyway, these two discs offer a delightful, meaty chunk of music in the middle of the Queffélec big box.



Amazon link to the big box: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Anne-Queff...nne+queffelec&qid=1556982762&s=gateway&sr=8-1

 

[Todd A]

I've finally found HIP Schubert to live with. András Schiff's first ECM Schubert twofer offered the best HIP Schubert I'd heard. This twofer continues offers more of the same. Indeed, it starts off relatively stronger with what must surely count as one of the greatest recordings of the D899 Impromptus I've yet heard. It may well be the best. And it all comes down to the instrument. In terms of tempo, rubato, agogics, etc, Schiff doesn't do anything outlandish. What he does is offer a very highly refined take on the pieces, and he displays a satisfyingly wide dynamic range. But it is the decay characteristics of the instrument that really makes the piece. The playing is often as lyrical as all get out, but the quick decay, and the ability to play even softer than on a modern grand bring the pieces into intimate focus. One listens to the first piece and thinks it can't get any better, and then one hears the opening scales of the second, and one understands it can. And the more primitive mechanism allows Schiff to cruise along, playing at steady volume, and then drop everything all at once. It's a little detail, but a massive one at the same time. Schiff's older fingers betray no sign of decrepitude, either, as he plays with lightness and clarity. The third piece is simply sublime, with the quick decay not detracting an iota from the right hand playing, and lending an incisiveness to the left hand playing that typically comes with overpowering volume, but not here. The tone of the lower registers is novel, and more diverse than a Steinway. Once doesn't miss the added power here. Nor does one miss it in the concluding Allegretto, which is perfectly scaled for a small venue, and offers wide ranging dynamics, in a micro-sense, that generates a sense of theater. This is standard-setting stuff.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the D958 sonata that follows doesn't reach the same heights. Do not take that to mean that Schiff whiffs, because rather than setting a standard, he merely matches a world-class one. Schiff again demonstrates than when he is so inclined, he can make his instrument produce satisfying volume levels as the Allegro opens with a suitably powerful sound, and then Schiff plays the movement with ample drive and intensity. The quick decays makes the playing sound even faster, and the wide tonal variation adds color that modern instruments don't. As the movement reaches the middle, Schiff again delivers some truly ear-opening playing, again centered around the left hand playing, but he also creates an austere yet melodic sound with his right hand playing. The Adagio, played at a tempo that allows for not a little tension to remain, is also characterized by nearly volcanic, or as volcanic as a fortepiano cane play, climaxes. Schiff keeps the melodies flowing when he should, but the interpretation is elevated from his accomplished modern grand reading. The Menuetto is fairly stormy in the outer sections, but lighter in the middle, and the Allegro ratchets up the tension and intensity. Schiff pushes forward with a relentlessness that is masked only slightly by the instrument. Schiff also drops in some upper register notes that are almost ridiculously soft in the midst of the turmoil, and they remain perfectly audible. Nice. Disc one of the twofer sets a real high bar, no doubt.

Disc two fortunately sounds just as swell. The Drei Klavierstücke D946 starts things off. Schiff opts for a perfectly sensible overall tempo, neither overly rushed or sluggishly slow, in the outer sections. He does opt for an ever so slightly fast approach in the slower music, but only when playing notes, because he makes expert use of some sustains and all pauses. Again, he uses the decay characteristics of his instruments most effectively. And those right hand runs! They are almost as ear-opening as the playing in D899. That would have been good enough, but in the Allegretto, that almost preposterously fine micro-dynamic gradation that first popped up in D899 reappears right at the outset. Schiff also deploys the various mechanisms of his instrument to good effect, doing the full keyboard dynamic shift, and if the playing doesn't assume the depths that some other pianists strive for and obtain (basically, Jean-Rodolphe Kars or Kun Woo Paik), the result sounds satisfactorily probing, especially for an intimate public setting. (This is true Schubertiade playing.) Schiff opens the concluding Allegro in somewhat stilted, stiff fashion, obviously on purpose, and somehow he makes it incredibly effective. Part of the success is due to the fact that the piece ends up accelerating, with the notes flowing more as expected. Knowing he has a winning approach, Schiff does the same thing again.

D959 wraps things up. Schiff works his magic again. The Allegro starts off strong enough, but it only really packs a wallop after building up steam. The almost improperly clear playing, with great tonal and dynamic differentiation in the accompaniment, really bring out the different voices and lend intellectualized drama to the playing. And again, the quick decays render some of the melodies uncommonly distinctive. Portions of the development are tastily testy, more than one might hope going in. Schiff then demonstrates that his instrument can do violent and stormy in the middle section of the Andantino, and that purposely slow, chunky approach starts off the Scherzo. (I guess one could call it a mannerism the second time around.) That stupid-good right hand playing all reappears. As beautiful as a modern grand sounds, it can sound cumbersome compared to what gets conjured here. The Rondo takes on a comparatively relaxed feel, and more overtly lyrical sound, in the outer sections, and gentler and sweeter in the middle section, as if a struggle of some sort has ended. And one gets to hear just how long a note can sustain at the end, which is a longer than expected time. Really, it's an exceptional interpretation.

I don't know if Schiff intends to record all of Schubert's piano works on a HIP instruments. I do know he should. Whatever happens, this twofer combined with the prior twofer represent HIP keyboard playing of the highest possible order, up there with PBS' LvB.

Perfect sonics.


Amazon UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07NRFGFJD/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21

 

[Todd A]

This ain't my first go-round with Janina Fialkowska's Schubert. I have her D664/D894 disc, and if not my favorite for either work, Ms Fialkowska most definitely knows her business. So, when I found this disc for less than four bucks, it was obvious it would be stupid not to buy it.

The disc opens with D568, and one needn't wait long to be reminded that Ms Fialkowska is no wallflower pianist. While never sounding strident, sweet lyricism is not her way. Clean articulation, zippy tempi, springy rhythm, and a bit of oomph characterize her work. The opening Allegro sounds immoderate, but that's quite fine, because the rhythmic component, especially, gets its due. And the brightness of the playing really tickles the ear. Mm-hmm. The Andante molto finds Fialkowska slowing down as appropriate, but she also maintains more than a bit of tension in some sections, lending a sense of jitteriness to some of the music. To be sure, some of the music sounds slow, contemplative and lovely, but the overall result remains unsentimental Schubert. The Menuetto sounds a bit taut, but does not flow like some other versions, but that's quite alright since the tradeoff is a bit of clarity. Fialkowska keeps the Allegro moderato closer snappy and forward-moving for a brisk, refreshing ending.

Moving to the D935 Impromptus, Fialkowska keeps the same crisp, bright, unsentimental style. In the first piece, unending lyricism gives way to patches of beautiful lyricism and segments of something harder driven. Her playing before the final pages does actually take on the "heavenly lengths" style, as music just sort of unfurls beautifully. Not as beautifully as in the A-flat major Impromptu. Fialkowska maintains a proper, steady, slow tempo, and alternates between passages of forlorn beauty and outbursts with bite. A calmness also pervades some of the slower playing. The middle section merges taut delivery, wide ranging dynamics, and lyricism just so. This may very well be my favorite Schubert Impromptu, and Fialkowska delivers a corker. In the B-flat major, Fialkowska delivers a fairly standard approach, with much focus on melodic attractiveness and sprightliness, except for the slightly stormier middle section, where some ivory walloping gets added to the mix. Very nice. Also very nice is the vibrant and snappy F Minor. The only drawback is that the playing becomes just a smidge congested, though that is more an artifact of recording than a concern I would have in real life.

So, Ms Fialkowska delivers a fine disc, peaking pretty darned high with the A-Flat Major Impromptu.

ATMA, per usual, delivers superb sonics.


Amazon UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01ACOKM10/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21

 

[Todd A]

A second stab at HIP Schubert lieder. This time, thanks to the DHM long box, it's standard fare in the form of Schubert's second greatest song cycle, Winterreise. Up to this point, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau has loomed large in my listening experience, what with his 371 recorded versions. I have several, with pianists Moore, Demus, and Pollini, with the DFD/Moore pairing more or less the baseline version. I've also got Bostridge/Andsnes, Schreier/Schiff, and the great Christine Schäfer paired with Eric Schneider for something different. Well now, I get bass Michael Schopper paired with HIP keyboardist of note Andreas Staier to mix things up. I don't recall hearing Schopper until this disc, and his voice is well controlled and mellifluous, and a bit light for a bass. No Wotan he. His diction seems clean, his singing decidedly unhistrionic when compared to DFD, and a certain coolness blends in with the often crisp singing. The crisp singing is mirrored by the crisp playing, with Staier using his nice enough sounding instrument to lend perfect support. To be sure, the voice dominates, which is fine. Schopper likes to often start soft and build up quickly in a single note when starting a word, and he adds discreet vibrato here and there, but the cool style makes for a cool cycle that moves towards its perhaps not ideally dramatic ending. Sure, there's a bit of gloom, but here's where DFD's approach pays off most. I gotta admit, while fortepiano can really work in Schubert, as András Schiff demonstrates, when it comes to lied, I really want a modern grand and its sustain and its ability to create a seamless legato sound. Staier plays very well, which is about as surprising as the sun rising in the east, so it's really just a personal preference, which I freely admit. There are no substantive beefs with the recording then, it's just that I think I'll stick with modern grands and other singers.


Amazon UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0014W8TEM/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21

 

[Todd A]

In this batch, I've heard D899 and D935 delivered by two different pianists, and now I get to listen to one pianist run through all of them. This time, it's the well known to me François Chaplin, he of the very good if not standard setting Debussy, Chopin, and Scriabin.

D899 starts off pretty much as one might expect. Chaplin takes a reasonable tempo in the C Minor, plays with more than adequate tonal beauty, throws in a bit of weight - but not too much - in louder passages, and everything sound just fine. Same with the E Flat though hear one hears the tradeoff between Schiff instrument and a modern Steinway. The modern piano is brighter and cleaner and the legato is more flowing, with (macro-) dynamic variation more pronounced, as one expects. The right hand scales sound just dandy. Chaplin really does deliver some fine playing, but there's just something qualitatively different here. It's unfair, but oh well. The G Flat is fairly straight forward in approach, but in the A Flat, Chaplin kicks things up a notch, playing with a bit of speed, nicely contrasted dynamics, and fine articulation in the outer sections, and a bit of hard-ish hitting fantasia like playing in the middle section. Really, it's quite excellent, and the set as a whole is quite good, but Schiff squishes him.

In D935, Chaplin is similar to Fialkowska in terms of overall quality, but the playing sounds fuller and more focused on melody than rhythm. This is obvious in the F Minor, but even more so in the A Flat, though here Chaplin never really lets up on tension, which remains throughout, sometimes subtle, sometimes not, not at all. In the B flat, Chaplin plays the main melody as beautiful as all get out, and in the F Minor, Chaplin ups the rhythmic ante, and delivers a solid closer. As a little encore, the Schubert/Liszt Litanei is included, and sounds just swell.

So, very nice overall. Among Chaplin's efforts I've heard, I'd say his Chopin Nocturnes are probably tops, but this disc is very fine and shows that the pianist has range.

Superb sound.



Amazon UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00SCD8SZG/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21

 

[Todd A]

While Andrea Lucchesini could certainly be included in The Italian Invasion, I've long considered him one of the best pianists of the day, so I will just post in this Schubert thread.

The recording opens with D959. Lucchesini launches with potent forte playing of a very slightly swift tempo, but he just as swiftly falls back in tempo and volume and proceeds to play with no little lyricism and tonal beauty, though not as much as in his earlier recording of the Impromptus. As the music moves back and forth, these two traits repeat. And a certain hardness creeps in during the loud passages, though not anywhere near enough to detract from enjoyment. Indeed, just a bit of bite works nicely. One of the things that makes Lucchesini's Impromptus recording so good is his ability to play slow music with great beauty, solemnity, and, when needed, steadiness, and here he delivers in all regards in the outer sections of the Andantino, which sound just marvelous, comparable to any version. He then ramps up intensity in the middle section, building up to a potent climax. And the rolled chords of the coda sound just right. Oh yeah. The Scherzo offers a light, jocular, peppy contrast. The final movement expertly moves back and forth between outright lyricism and lyricism married to tension. I will say that Schiff's recent recording is even more to my liking, but this most definitely is very much to my liking.

And of course there's more. D537 follows. Lucchesini plays it big. There's a sort of Wanderer Fantasie scale to it, and the way he weights repeated arpeggios in the opening Allegro ma non troppo is ear catching without sounding obtrusive or obvious. The Allegretto quasi andantino comes off even better. Lighter and more lyrical, Lucchesini plays with variable, dance-y rhythm, and ample Lucchesinian tone. He really elevates the movement, emphasizing its direct relationship to D959, making it sound more like "late" Schubert than it often does, establishing new qualitative standards as he goes. The Allegro vivace ends the piece more strongly than normal. Lucchesini doesn't do anything outlandish or too attention grabbing, but the sum effect of his little touches is to elevate the movement and entire sonata into something altogether more substantive than normal. And it sounds artistically effortless, to boot. He pulls off a similar trick with the D915 Allegretto, which acts as a superb closer.

Before buying, I figured this release would be a purchase of the year. It is.

Sound for the 24/96 download is near SOTA.


Amazon UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07QYQ5GNG/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21

 

[Todd A]

Francesco Piemontesi first entered my musical consciousness when I heard him play a Mozart concerto in person. So fine was his playing that I quickly picked up his very fine Debussy, but then it a took a while for me to pick up a couple other things from him. It didn't seem to matter much, because he was releasing new recordings at a moderate clip. Then, recently, he started recording more. There were the first two years of Liszt's Annees in short order, and now there's this set of Schubert's last three sonatas. What's more, the newer recordings are all available as moderately priced high res downloads, so there's no hunting around the various Amazons or what not to get a copy. Just download and go. Which is what I did here.

Piemontesi opens D958 with an Allegro of just about the right tempo - not too fast, and definitely not too slow - and plenty of rich hued drama. Is the playing the most powerful forte I've heard? Nope. But it sure sounds good. The left hand playing, while never overbearing, sounds insistent, relentless always pushing the music forward, and the melodies, oh my, they sound lovely, even in the agitated music. The second theme, though, is where true magic happens, as Piemontesi settles down and plays some heavenly sounding music. He then alternates between the themes most deftly. The Adagio effectively inverts the sound and approach, going mostly slow and achingly beautiful, with punchier sections included. The Menuetto is tense and taut in the outer sections, with tasty accenting and beautiful playing, with an even more lovely trio. The concluding Allegro, taken at a sensible overall pace, starts off all potent energy and snappy, exaggerated dance rhythms. The second theme is charming and sunny and pure aural pleasantness. There's a sense of spontaneity and joy in the mix. And man, the right hand playing sounds sweet in places. A blockbuster D958.

D959 starts with an Allegro seemingly more like the opening of D958 than normal, with everything refined and enhanced. The forte playing has more heft and edge, though not quite bite, and close to the most perfectly sculpted sforzandi imaginable. (Yes, scuplted.) And that incredibly sweet, beautiful right hand playing reappears in various spots, and the subdued, tapered, extended coda is something else. The Andantino starts slow and somber and lovely, the simultaneously bright and colorful upper register tone ringing out with more than touches of melancholy. As the playing continues on, the perfectly controlled slow tempo lends a hypnotic air to the proceedings. The middle section finds Piemontesi slowing down and playing with deliberation and some heft, and then as the music transitions back to the opening material, he plays an accelerated left hand trill that is like an extra-tense, jittery version of what one hears in the opening movement of D960. The Scherzo reverses the musical sounds of the inner and outer sections, and while Piemontesi plays with ample rhythmic snap in the outer sections, it is the heavenly middle section that beguiles. The concluding Rondo starts off as a stream of melody, and more or less stays that way until the development, which offers what might possibly be the only complaint to this point. The playing takes on a very slightly stiff feel, and while in contrasts with the surrounding material nicely enough, it seems to flow a little less than ideally, or at least than I want. Piemontesi knows what he's doing. The whole still works superbly well.

In D960, Piemontesi goes for a long 20'13" opening Molto moderato, but he does a remarkable job making the movement feel shorter. He plays much of the music, basically everything but the slowest music, with a readily apparent but not overbearing tension. He also keeps the bass trills ever so light, quick, and not ponderous or portentous. Indeed, Piemontesi keeps the whole movement together quite marvelously, never really moving into the premonition of death style interpretation, and at times there is real vigor and drive, but being live, some of the almost nutso clarity gives way to more real-life, recital like blurring and congestion, which is fine. While the opening movement is quite fine and weighty, Piemontesi shifts the heart of the work to the Andante. Tense yet subdued, lovely but emphatic where appropriate, nicely accented and smoothly delivered at the same time, the pianist moves the piece forward with a perfect degree of weightiness, especially in the climax, and his gorgeous right hand playing reappears. The Scherzo is light and quick, with snazzy rhythmic components, and the Allegro ma non troppo is as well, with a sort of smooth, gliding feel to some of the playing, and while the fortissimo playing has real weight, there's more of a sense of ethereal lightness, with the perfectly gauged right hand playing again the most ear catching part. This is a very fine D960, if not quite to the same comparative level as the preceding two works.

Beyond SOTA sound for D958 and D959, and superb live sound for D960.

Piemontesi is kicking ass and taking names.


Amazon UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07VHY4YFQ/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21

 

[Todd A]

Every once in a while, a great artist releases a recording that, despite the artist's ability and talent, fails to live up to expectations; every once in a while, a great artist produces a dud. This is not one of those times.

The disc opens with the main work, and Volodos opens with rich, dark-hued forte chords that seem perfectly controlled in every aspect, but then come the descending arpeggios and Volodos plays with such incredible sensitivity and finely nuanced touch that it scarcely seems credible. Had he not released his Brahms and Mompou discs before this, one might almost think some studio knob twiddling was deployed to achieve the effect. As he moves through the movement, Volodos plays every bar well nigh flawlessly, but something of a flaw does begin to catch one's ear. The playing sounds so ravishingly beautiful and meticulous and perfectly refined in absolutely every aspect that one revels in the pianism alone. The music almost becomes secondary. That's not say the Volodos draws attention to himself and plays in a flashy way, but rather to say that the level of perfection is so absolute and all-encompassing that it almost defies belief, and one not only can't hear the musical forest for the trees, but one can't entirely appreciate the trees for the meticulously manicured bark, at least on the first handful of listens. (It took a full half-dozen run-throughs before I could appreciate the full scope of the music.) For instance, in the coda of the Allegro, one greedily listens to every note, or tries to, whether it is in the meticulously played accompaniment or the colorful melody or, even better yet, in the dreamy final notes. It mesmerizes. Volodos makes the Andantino the heart of his conception. His playing is quite simply beyond beautiful, richly hued, and sorrowful in a flawlessly controlled way in the opening, and his slow tempo seems just right. He transitions to the middle flawlessly, and then creates a dream-like atmosphere while slowly building up to a fully satisfying fortissimo. One might be able to say that his sforzandi lack the last word in bite since they are so obviously perfect sounding, but that wouldn't be entirely true, and it's entirely irrelevant in the end. In the Scherzo, Volodos displays more energy and weight, and while the rhythmic component is flawless, it's idealized, it's self-contained, and the Trio takes the more beautiful than beautiful approach up again in the right hand playing, where some of the pianissimo playing again makes wonder how he does it. In the Rondo, Volodos lavishes such focus and control on the right hand playing as to render the movement an endless melody, only interrupted by some potent but gorgeous left hand playing in the stormy middle section. The overall effect of the playing is to create an aural frieze of sorts, one so finely executed that the listener could, if he or she chose, grab any ten or twenty or thirty second snippet and listen to it in a loop and enjoy perfection, or, as is more advisable, the lucky listener could just luxuriate in the whole thing. Great is such a puny word.

On Volodos' Tchaikovsky and Rach concerto discs the biggest draws are the encores. That very nearly happens here - and that with one of the great D959s as the big work! Volodos' selections were not random, and he makes them seem like more than miniatures. To be sure, he does not and cannot turn the pieces into epoch defining compositions. What he does and can do is play them with such immaculate control and beauty that he manages to deliver condensed versions of Schubert's much vaunted Heavenly Lengths, and in the D600/D610 he pulls off the musical suspension of time trick, and lends the playing weight and drama sufficient to be accompaniment to a serious lied. In D313, at the 1'27" mark at the beginning of the middle section, the playing drops rather dramatically in volume from its already low level, to something akin to pppppp. At first, I almost thought this was a case of engineering gone awry, though something nearly as delicate and gentle appears close to the end of the section. Volodos easily displaces Yaeko Yamane in delivering the most gently played, quietest pianississississimo playing I've heard, and he does so while delivering such beautiful tone and such effortless lyricism that I cannot help but spin the whole damn disc when I start it up, just like with his Brahms.

When earlier this year I saw that the great Mr Volodos was releasing Schubert's D959, I was most excited. Having heard a live version from him online a while back, I knew good things were in store. Having now heard this disc multiple times, I can confirm that something much better than merely good was delivered. A purchase of the year and decade.


Amazon UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07W7GVXGJ/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21

 

[Todd A]

Dina Ugorskaja now belongs to that collection of artists about whom it will always be asked "What if?" What if she had not passed away at the way too young age of only forty-six? I first stumbled upon her a few years back when I spied some late Beethoven she had recorded. I bought it, listened, and then I then scrambled to buy up all of her recordings then available. No doubt inspired by her father, Anatol Ugorski, she went her own way. Her interpretations do not quite sound like anyone else's. There something unique, sometimes willfully so, in much of her playing. I still remember the first time I listened to her recording of Kreisleriana. It left me bewildered, almost dazed. What is this, I thought? Now, it's old hat, but it took a while to get there. Rarely do pianists evoke this type of response. And yes, I am including the typically very willful pianists when I write that. Unlike Pogorelich or Barto or even Ugorski, Ugorskaja is often off-kilter, but for some very good reasons that only reveal themselves after multiple listens, and coming to terms with what she decided to do. It was with surprise and sadness that I learned of her death recently. And then when I saw that Schubert would be her final recorded testament, particularly D960, I had to hear it, but I immediately thought that she would turn the main work into a personal exploration of impending death.

Ugorskaja has never been a speed demon, but her D960 is on the longer than long side, coming in at over forty-eight minutes total, with just shy of twenty-four minutes devoted to the Molto moderato. While one might be tempted to approach this as her rumination on impending death, especially with the long pauses and desolate bass trills, one doesn't get that sense for much of the movement. It does start very slow, and only gradually picks up the pace a little bit, and it does pick up in dynamic contrasts a bit, but it seems more broadly contemplative than grim. Maybe one can catch aural glimpses of resignation, as when she extends some arpeggios just so, or hints of anger in the bass trills. Also, partly due to the breadth and style, the movement takes on a fantastic air, sort of quasi-spontaneously unfolding. It's not the most lyrical, not the darkest, not the lightest, not the most anything; it's just a serious take on the piece. She continues this on into the Andante, which also remains slow and long a almost becomes the focus. The middle section finds her playing the left hand figurations in an almost detached way when compared to the melody, so there's a sense of disjointedness, but it works. After well over half an hour of slow, somewhat heavy music making, the Scherzo comes off as a light, lyrical respite, though it keeps a somewhat disjointed feel compared to fleeter takes. The concluding Allegro ma non troppo merges the approach of the first two movements and the third into something alternating between more lyrical flights of fancy and stormier passages. Overall, it's an excellent take, with some fine details, but it's not a standard-setter, and not a glimpse into the unknown by someone standing on the precipice.

Any ideas about purely funereal Schubert are entirely dispelled in D946. Ugorskaja plays the opening Allegro assai with more than ample energy and drive. Indeed, it comes closer than anticipated to sounding like driven, hard-hitting Schubert than lyrical Schubert. The lyrical bit is saved for the quite attractive and very well judged Allegretto. It's firm, yet lilting; it's relaxed, but it has backbone; it's beautiful, but it's not flowery, especially in the faster passages. In the Allegro, she plays the music in a fairly driven manner in the outer sections, but it is the more tense than lovely middle section that stands out. Here, one might say that there are hints of anger. D946 represents a comparative qualitative step up.

The recording ends with the Moments Musicaux D780. Again, Ugorskaja avoids the specter of death, at least to start, instead opting focus on some little details. She extends some phrases, truncates others, mixes lyricism and harder edged playing, and deploys strong but not domineering sforzandi - and that is just in the opening Moderato. The Andantino has long struck me as a piece that can assume as funereal and haunting a feel as anything in D960, and while Ugorskaja does offer hints of darkness, it's about more than that. The lullaby section has a sense of darkness and resignation, but the second section is off-kilter, disjointed, a confused musical wandering, with the pianist searching, looking, desperately grasping, and when it returns, it is sharp, intense, and painful. It turns out that this may be the emotional heart of the work, of the recording. To offer nearly maximum contrast, the Allegro moderato is more or less just a gentle, lovely, slightly off balance piece meant to soothe. The same cannot be written about the Moderato that follows, which has some bite, and the Allegro vivace has even more. Finally, in the concluding Allegretto, one hears a more compact piece that seems to alternate between sorrow and acceptance. Ugorskaja doesn't let the music just flow, but there's a sense of calm, even in louder passages, and somehow, even in simple chords, the pianist imbues the music with something more, something undefinable. Though the set starts with Schubert's greatest solo piano work, Ugorskaja saves her very best for last.

Once again, as in every release I've heard from her - which is everything except her Brahms - Ugorskaja delivers something unique, something with moments of intimate insight and expression. She delivers something real, something beyond merely the notes. This is not the greatest Schubert recording I own, but it never needed to be, and to say that there is more than enough to return to over the coming decades is an understatement.

Though I never met her, I already miss Ms Ugorskaja.



Amazon UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07XW6SNKY/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21

 

[davidjt]

Just bought the Volodos recording. What can I say, apart from 'Thanks for another superb recommendation'?

 

[alanbeeb]

How slow is it?

I bought his fairly recent Brahms op.76/117/118 set... and got to be honest found it painful - so slow and so much sustain. Will this have the same effect on me?

Well OK I just tried Volodos's Brahms op 118 again and it wasn't as bad as I remembered - but still too much softness, not enough attack.

 

[davidjt]

One man's meat....

I won't attempt to add to Todd's review. Knowing a little of what to expect, I was entranced from the start.

 

[mandryka]

The sound is what makes the Volodos worth hearing. He can really drive a big Steinway. The interpretation is another matter - notice that reviewers talk less about that!

Volodos is a pianist’s pianist; he may be less of a musician’s musician.

In recording terms, this is a studio recording, it has been engineered to maximise beauty. Having said that, I’ve never heard him in concert - I intend to correct that!

 

[mandryka]

How slow is it?

I bought his fairly recent Brahms op.76/117/118 set... and got to be honest found it painful - so slow and so much sustain. Will this have the same effect on me?

Well OK I just tried Volodos's Brahms op 118 again and it wasn't as bad as I remembered - but still too much softness, not enough attack.

See above. If you want a pianist who really makes use of the piano’s percussive capabilities, Volodos may not be the best choice. Maybe you should try to sample the second movement of 959, see what you think of what he does with the outburst.

Have you heard the recent Schubert from Lonquich? I much prefer it to Volodos from the point of view of musicianship.

Or the new Brahms from Koroliov?

 

[alanbeeb]

I paid my £11.52 to Prestomusic.com and downloaded the 24/96 flacs of the Volodos D959. Its very nice, not at all slow as I feared, and I enjoyed it.... but just listening now to Radu Lupu's 1970s recording from Decca and its got more vim, and more joy in the last movement, and still in excellent sound too.

 

[davidjt]

Mainly because I enjoy his LvB, I've just ordered the PB-S set from Amazon.fr for a shade under 20Euros including postage. The price differences within the EU still seem very odd, but sometimes tempting as well.

 

[Electrostat]

The sound is what makes the Volodos worth hearing. He can really drive a big Steinway. The interpretation is another matter - notice that reviewers talk less about that!

Volodos is a pianist’s pianist; he may be less of a musician’s musician.

In recording terms, this is a studio recording, it has been engineered to maximise beauty. Having said that, I’ve never heard him in concert - I intend to correct that!

I can see that in bold. I do prefer older Volodos who isn't all about unbridled pianism these days, for me there is a lot to enjoy in his latest Schubert disc. I'd love to hear him record some mid/late Beethoven.