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The Asian Invasion

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The second appearance of the Novus in this thread, going back to their debut. (I also picked up their pairing with Michel Dalberto in the Franck Piano Quintet and did not cover that here. Nutshell description: Superb.) The disc is a mixed rep affair with Austro-Germanic stalwarts Webern and Beethoven the anchors, with Korean composer Isang Yun something new.

The disc opens with Webern's Langsamer Satz, and it's nine and half minutes of late romantic opulence exquisitely performed. The Novus nailed Berg's Lyric Suite, holding their own with some big names, and they replicate that feat here. The accessibility and gorgeousness of the music may make it atypical for the composer, but so what? Clearly, the Novus need to record Schoenberg. And hopefully Zemlinksy.

Beethoven's Op 95 follows. More spaciously recorded, it offers a jarring musical contrast. The ensemble do not soft-pedal, instead presenting the music with speed, precision, and in a tightly coiled, explosive manner that outdoes the mighty Prazak at times in the opener. They do lighten up in the Allegretto ma non troppo, but the playing still stays firm, exact. The Allegro assai finds the Novus back in their maximum comfort zone, and it is here where some more experienced ensembles make more of the musical contrasts. The final movement has plenty of gusto, and some sweet viola playing, but here one can almost detect the corporate excellence morphing into something of a liability; it sounds so easy that it starts to fall short in ultimate expression. It comes close to being more about execution than anything else, though it never quite gets there. While I have no idea what the ensemble might record next, a bit more Beethoven for the imminent Beethoven year would be most welcome.

The disc closes with a couple works from Isang Yun, from whom I've previously heard only one disc's worth of small-scale orchestral music. This is fairly early Yun, so it doesn't succumb to harsh modernism. Rather, it's infused with Asian influences while blending western traditions. As is sometimes the case, the result, to western ears seems infused by Dvorak's style and Bartok's incorporation of folk music. There's also some fin de siècle feel in there, some Zemlinksy, or some French music. It's quite effective, and it's good enough such that one might me tempted to drop it in some imagined parlor game where music aficionados attempt to "name that composer". The folk tune component is played up in the final piece, an arrangement of the Korean folk tune Arirang, which is predictably well done.

Sound for the hi res download is, alas, not SOTA, with some glare and harshness in spots. It's more than adequate, though.
 
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This Beethoven year has so far seen few intriguing piano sonata recordings issued, and since I own all of the complete sets being reissued, I am forced to contemplate and buy single discs from whenever, including war horse compilations, which I generally dislike. I found Jae-Hyuck Cho's Beethoven disc while poking around on 7Digital, so I went for it because why not. Cho was born in ChunCheon, South Korea, started studying as a wee lad, then moved to New York to study some more, most notably under Jerome Lowenthal at Juilliard. So he's got the academic credentials.

His warhorse disc includes Opp 13, 57, and 53, in that order, with a Schumann-Liszt finisher. Op 13 starts off conventionally enough. The Grave opener is strong, but not overwhelming, and the Allegro di molto e con brio is played at a proper tempo, has some nice dynamic contrasts, and some insistent and reasonably steady left hand playing. The return of the opening material sounds a bit weak and doesn't offer much contrast, but it is inoffensive. The Adagio cantabile is competently played, steady, and the cantabile playing in the outer sections is nice. A bit of contrast is introduced in the middle section. The concluding Rondo is a bit slow and tame. Some of the right hand playing sounds tonally attractive, though. Op 57 starts off with an Allegro assai where Cho plays with clean articulation and nice pacing, but dynamics are limited and attack softened a bit. It's a bit polite. The Andante con moto is pleasant, with a somewhat leisurely pace, soft or soft-ish playing, and a bit of tonal beauty. The finale comes off better, with Cho adding more heft to his left hand playing, and moving at a decent pace. Overall, though, the sonata is kind of bland and forgettable. Op 53 follows, and Cho opens the Allegro con brio with some pep, though it seems a bit louder than it should, which in turn means that dynamic contrasts later in the movement are muted a bit, but it's good. The Introduzione sounds contemplative and attractive, and it segues to a Rondo where Cho plays with ample energy, drive, clarity, and nice left hand sforzandi that still seem polished a bit too much. Overall, it's the best sonata on the disc, but even it is just like a drop of water in a lake of Waldstein recordings. The Widmung encore starts off gently and beautifully and picks up steam until the end. Not bad. Overall, meh.
 
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I've never really been especially keen on Lang Lang. This recording is only the second of his that I have purchased, the other being Beethoven concertos with Christoph Eschenbach. He got airplay on the local classical station when he hit it big, and some of his recordings sounded kind of gauche, if technically snazzy. From time to time, I'd hear a live recording from him that I found more suitable. Some live performances of Chopin Mazurkas and Liszt Hungarian Rhapsodies extracts showed a bit more range and color. His recorded output is fairly limited, and includes a variety of works that I'm not exactly clamoring to buy, so I've not really heard a lot, nor have I paid attention to his discography. When I saw this reissue, I mistakenly thought it was new, but it's a decade old recording, which makes sense, because who would want to record Beethoven so soon after an injury? Anyway, in this Beethoven year that now will have fewer new releases than it should, I decided to buy.

Op 2/3 opens promisingly enough. LL has no difficulty with the opening theme, which sounds light and effortless. The second theme, though, moves right into near-banging territory, something which becomes all the more annoying every time it appears, because later on in the Allegro con brio he backs off and plays with notable subtlety. So one must conclude this sounds exactly the way he wants it to sound. And so it goes, with nice mezzo-forte and below playing, and slightly unpleasant forte and fortissimo playing. LL's ability to play soft and really quite attractively becomes even more evident in the opening of the Adagio. He keeps the pace steady, and when the loud, tolling notes arrives, he keeps them under perfect control. Very nice, and again, it offers evidence that he gets the sound he wants. At the end of the second theme, he displays a very fine touch as he lowers the volume to next to nothing. His control sounds exemplary, and the big old arpeggio near the end displays a level of control and precision that really sounds quite fine. The Scherzo has some playing that approaches aural unpleasantness, but never gets there, and it works well enough. LL plays the Allegro assai with a sense of playfulness and overt virtuosity, but in this movement that is more or less enough. When one hears the applause at the end, one does make some allowances for the fortissimo passages. Surely a pristine studio recording would have more refined high volume playing. Overall, better than expected.

Op 57 is a war horse, of course, and one that, in a certain sense, seems like a "natural" fit for the pianist. LL certainly tears into parts of the Allegro assai, but he also backs way off, and allows some phrases to breathe a bit. It does sound a bit contrived, as if he is doing it to underscore the contrasts, but I've heard (much, much) worse. As he plays the downward arpeggios to the fortissimo climax, he plays in a halting manner, which adds something of interest, but the loudest playing does tip over into garishness. The Andante con moto doesn't fare as well as the Adagio did in 2/3. LL does paly with a steady tempo, and he does deliver some nuanced playing, but he also plays much of the music in a slightly too stark fashion. The finale is chock-full of heavy-duty forte and fortissimo key pounding, and has ample energy. Intriguingly, LL does not play as fast as he can - there are significantly faster renditions out there - and he makes room for slower playing, and for some quieter playing. He modulates his dynamics nicely, offering an undulating wave of music, and some sustain pedal enhanced washes of notes. It's contrived and superficial, but not unsuccessful. The build up to the coda and the coda itself are both played with blistering speed and overcooked left hand playing, but it is designed to please the gallery, which it does. This is not a top 10 or top 20 version, but like 2/3, it's better than expected going in.

The encore is the opening movement to The Tempest. Why just one movement, who knows? Anyway, LL plays the Largo a bit quickly, and dispatches the opening of the Allegro at high speed, before backing off, and mixing up the tempo. Indeed, if anything, he slows some passages down too much, creating something a bit idiosyncratic. But it's not at all terrible.

I sort of wonder what Lang Lang can do nowadays. He's not a kid anymore, so maybe he has matured a bit. Perhaps he can take up Mompou (no, seriously) or perhaps more Schumann. Or more Beethoven. Or maybe he and his new wife can go the route of the Schuchs and deliver some fine works for piano duos.
 
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Every time Yeol Eum Son releases a new recording now, it must be snapped up immediately. No delays are or will be accepted. This most recent disc of three Schumann works was no exception. The disc was pre-ordered as soon as was possible, and it has received an unknown numbers of airings since it arrived. When a YES recording starts playing, one just wonders if she ends up setting a new standard or living up to an old one.

The Op 17 Fantasie is a very performance dependent piece for me. In the wrong hands, it bores, sometimes interminably. In the right hands, well, let's just see what YES does with it. YES delivers one of the finest opening movements I've heard. Were one to not know this work is described as a Fantasy, one may very well conclude it is. Simultaneously structured and free-flowing, YES delivers multiple micro-dynamic gradations at once and a steady pulse combined with a strangely free yet studied approach. When she slows down around three minutes in, and drops her pianissimo levels to Volodosian levels, the effect is hypnotic, and the forte playing that follows feels perfectly contrasted, like an inevitable development. She uses long pauses and slows way down in parts, only to belt out more passionate passages with requisite wallop, if not abandon. As the opening material returns after about nine minutes, she keeps a steady, slightly blurred left hand underpinning the flight of fancy right hand playing. Some listeners may find the use of extended pauses a mannerism, and it is, but it works splendidly. In the second movement, YES brings out the march-like element with a sense of whimsy and playfulness, and her dynamic control is so fine that one just listens to each phrase with unseemly avarice. The middle section is slowed down, quieter, and gentler - and almost purely dreamy, or even child-like in the simplicity of some of the playing. She then returns to the opening material with gusto. The final movement opens sounding like a blend and homage to Schubert's Ave Maria and Bachian counterpoint, and YES lets the music unfold in an unrushed manner. Some of the music is so serene yet so ridiculously well controlled that one sits and listens in wonder, as with Volodos' D959, as she plays both parts with shades of piano and pianissimo simultaneously. She again creates a dream-like state, though here it is more pronounced, and her ability to force the listener to stop everything and wait for every note is extraordinary. This recording is as close to perfect as any I have heard.

YES starts Kreisleriana with an appropriately animated Äußerst bewegt, with the right hand slightly to the fore, though the left hand is clear and clean. More vigorous versions are available, but then when Sehr innig und nicht zu rasch arrives, her playing reverts to the almost dream-like soundworld of the Fantasie. The second theme is a brief, rambunctious but controlled section before more meltingly beautiful playing, which is followed by the third section, which YES leads with the left hand, and then she closes out in lovely fashion again. In Sehr aufgeregt, one might be able to say that YES doesn't quite go intense enough, at least until the end, but it's also hard to dislike such controlled and refined sforzandi and forte playing. As expected, her Sehr langsam fares very well, and the more subdued passages of Sehr lebhaft do, too. (So do the more animated passages.) While it had become clear earlier in the work, in the second Sehr langsam, YES's penchant for delivering gorgeous, affecting, almost otherworldly slow movements becomes unavoidably obvious. Sehr rasch gets knocked out with ample energy and drive, with some really finely articulated left hand playing managing to overshadow, but not necessarily overpower the right hand playing. YES ends with a Schnell und spielend that is just a tad restrained in terms of tempo, but, especially in the louder passages, she plays in a style that creates a cumulative effect, an impression of boundless energy. Alas, Kreisleriana is not quite to the standard of the Fantasie. Where Op 17 may be the greatest ever recorded, Kreisleriana is merely on par with the greatest versions ever recorded.

YES ends things with a ravishing Arabeske, a teasing and gentle and poised treat.

I had sky high expectations when I bought this disc, and they were at least met. Superb sound.

A purchase of the year, the decade to come, and the century. Brilliant in every way.
 
Todd, a belated thank you for this thread. It has both reaffirmed and given plenty more to explore.
 
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As I waited for the first installment of William Youn's Schubert Sonatas, I snagged a couple downloads from him that I had somehow managed to avoid buying until now. Starting with the Chopin Concertos, I confess that here it's all about the pianist, just the pianist, and only the pianist. The band and conductor are more or less irrelevant. So what does Mr Youn deliver in this year that also saw the great Benjamin Grosvenor release a corker of a recording of these works? Well, immaculate tonal beauty, refinement, elegance, and tastefulness, start to finish. That's more or less the thing here. There are more fiery, more energetic, more overtly virtuosic, more any attribute you choose recordings out there. That's not really the point with Youn. As I listened, the piano-heavy recorded balance ended up working perfectly. In the E Minor, some pesky tuttis aside, I more or less listened to an endless stream of pianistic beauty, with the wash of right hand color and brightness making the Allegro maestoso soar, the Romanze lilt and seduce, and the Rondo sparkle and (gently) dance and basically force the listener to sit and listen in a sort of musicodopamine stupor. In the F Minor, Youn could play with more bite or darkness or richness or whatever in the Maestoso, but that would not help at all. The refinement of his playing is truly its own reward. He brings that refinement to the beautiful nocturny Larghetto. Here, the strings do some mighty fine work, too, though it's still all about Youn. In the Allegretto vivace, Youn once again forces the listener to sit and listen basically slack-jawed, and the right hand cascades near the end, not rushed, and delivered just so, creates listener giddiness. More or less as expected. Youn still bats a thousand. Oh, yeah, Friedemann Riehle leads the Nuremberg Symphony Orchestra in nice enough accompaniment and the recording sounds quite nice.
 
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Kotaro Fukuma is a name I'd only seen positive comments about until I finally splurged on two recordings, this one, and his more recent Beethoven recital on Naxos. For this recording, I went with the deluxe edition, which means that Deux danses espagnoles, España (!), Célèbre sérénade espagnole, Navarra, and La Vega (!!) are also included. Mr Fukuma has done the competition and recording thing for a while, so he's not a newbie. It kinda shows.

Albéniz's magnum opus has a few rather fine recordings out there, of course, with de Larrocha's multiple versions all worth serious consideration, though both the Spaniard Esteban Sánchez and the Belgium-born, Mexican-raised Michel Block are more to my taste. Well, here comes Mr Fukuma to offer something a bit different and pretty much as compelling. Sánchez's darker, more animated take and Block's more languid and layered approach differ from Fukuma's pristinely clean, colorful but not hazy playing, punctuated by incredibly nuanced and refined touch. Oh, yeah, sure, Al Albaicin has oomph and kick, with undulating rhythm and dynamic swells, and every other piece that requires it does, too, but that's only part of the magic. El Polo has a delicate, nuanced rhythmic sense, with perfectly refined accenting. Almeria emerges as something of an unexpected highlight. Here's music played with such precise, gentle, refined touch, with perfect dynamic relationships between chords and phrases, that one sits sort of numbed to non-pianistic goings on. And the best part is that any time this kind of music appears throughout the set, so the does the playing. It's kinda a wow thing, or at least one of those things that, after hearing it, one lets out a gentle laugh and shakes one's head sort of in disbelief, but ultimately belief and delight. Yeah. It's that good. But it's not that Spanish. While listening, as wonderful as it is, one acknowledges but does not miss the greater fluidity that de Larrocha brings, the greater intensity that Sánchez brings, and the near sensuality that Block brings. (Which is why one must have all the sets.) It is sort of like a more Gallic Albéniz, one where Séverac plays an outsized role, and Fukuma's style sounds like an even more refined and tidier Albert Attenelle with French accents. In other words, it's pretty freakin' sweet.

Now to the other good stuff. The Deux danses espagnoles sparkle and sound bright, with ample rhythmic acuity emerging from Fukuma's fingers. Nice. Nicer still is España, and here again the heavy hitters have recorded it. I confess a special affection for Block's impossibly beautiful and often too languid by half playing, never more so than in the Tango. If Fukuma cannot match Block here, his crisper, brighter, sunnier overall sound works just fine. Célèbre sérénade espagnole blends right in qualitatively. Navarra is yet another piece where Block's style fits better than anyone's, yet, again, Fukuma's approach pays dividends. The set concludes with La Vega, and here Sánchez rules the roost, with a darker hued, occasionally mysterious, occasionally turbulent take. Fukuma's lighter, more Gallicized take offers its own more delicate and dreamy beauties though.

Overall, this set is a peach. Fukuma does not displace the titans, but it says something that those are the people he inevitably must be compared to, and that he holds his own speaks volumes.

Toss is superb modern sound, and this set is a winner.
 
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Uh-oh. Does the E♭ major opener to D946 represent the first unforced error I've heard from William Youn (aka, Korean Piano Jesus)? He omits the second trio. Typically, I would say that would render any recording not all it should be. But here I give Youn the benefit of the doubt, because everything he does, he does at a William Youn level. The Allegro assai section is delivered with no little verve, bordering on the assertive, while retaining a lovely sheen and innate lyricism. Combine that with the more than adequately gorgeous Andante, and well, all is well. In the second piece, Youn moves back to more common, well above average playing. He maintains a certain palpable musical tension even in the slower music, which becomes even more evident in the agitated yet lyrical second section, with the left hand playing twitchy yet precise. Nice. Youn plays the third piece in a stylistically similar manner such that one can go ahead and believe that the movements were composed together.

The D915 Allegretto actually comes off as mere filler. Filler of the highest caliber, delivered with polish and nuance and beauty, but it does sound somewhat surfacey. Not so the D935 Impromptus, which represent the second main reason to buy, own, and cherish this recording. Youn delivers the opening on the F Minor in quick, tangy fashion, with ample beauty but also bite, which effortlessly and almost without notice slips into the second theme, delivered with copious gorgeousness, and a flowing legato. The second appearance of the opening theme takes on a very liederesque feel, as if Schubert had originally meant this accompany a young DFD with some proper German text. And he alternates on to the end, with the accompaniment in the last section taking on a hypnotic, watery sheen, like a babbling brook. The A♭ major falls on the somewhat quick, not especially inward looking end of the spectrum, at least to open. Youn plays at a perfect pace, and with a perfect dynamic range - no need to thunder here - and only gradually, as the music unfolds, does it take on a deeper feel. Then comes a doozy, and Youn plays the theme and variations B♭ major as nearly one endless stream of gorgeous melody, though some turbulent playing emerges where needed, which in turn only heightens the more melodic playing that follows. In the F minor closer, he tosses in overt virtuosity, rendering it almost a hyper-lyrical encore. But it ain't.

To the extent there is an encore, the Valses Nobles D969 might fit the bill. Here, Youn anchors the piece with rhythmically alert left hand playing, and while he can and does play beautifully, there some near brittle right hand playing, which, when Youn plays it, means it is being played that way for effect. And what a wonderful effect it ends up being.

The minor, forgivable scare in the opener accounted for, Youn continues to bat 1.000. Need to get to that Schubert sonatas set now.
 
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When snapping up Fukuma's Albéniz, some LvB also got snapped up because one can never have too much Beethoven. A disc with three works, the mix of sonatas offers something not typically presented together, a sort of bonus.

Starting with Op 31/2, Fukuma starts with a slow, distended, beautiful Largo that really manages to suspend time, and then he moves into an Allegro that possesses ample speed and dexterity, but that's not the thing. The thing is how Fukuma balances left and right hands, often emphasizing the accompaniment with unique accents, but then seamlessly moving emphasis back and forth. Then he returns to ultra-slow returns of the intro material, a technique which can sound distracting or artificial, but not here, not at all. The Adagio benefits even more from Fukuma's elegant and refined style. Not afraid to toss in rubato, every little interpretive device works. If one is going to decelerate a phrase, or extend some right hand figurations just that little extra bit, this is how to do it. And that tone. Man. In the context of an aural sculpture approach, one might expect the Allegretto to sound a bit less than intense, and while harder hitting versions exist, Fukuma increases intensity more than enough. His control and tone are such that sforzandi never bite, they emphasize strongly, and blend into the fluid closer.

Op 78 starts off deceptively, with Fukuma again delivering some beautiful playing in the Adagio cantabile, playing that sings as much as one could want, but as the movement unfolds, he adds more. The Allegro ma non troppo displays a wide dynamic range, and the slight tension adds an almost Op 90 style tenseness to some of the proceedings. The Allegro vivace sounds lighter and more fun, and exceptionally clean and dynamically wide ranging. Here's middle-late Beethoven with seriousness and prankishness in a perfect mix.

Then comes Op 111. Fukuma demonstrates how to open with a biting and dark Maestoso, indicating what was already obvious, namely that we was delivering exactly what he wanted to deliver before. The Allegro sounds faster and more furious, but also kind of focused on moving forward, and concerned with structure rather than deep depths. That's not a complaint. The Arietta starts firm but lovely in the opening half, then slows down and morphs into transcendent Beethoven in the second half. Fukuma then launches into variations imbued with seriousness of purpose, fine detail, and delicate touch blended in with playing of weight, and a transcendent feel. The boogie woogie variation has a bright and elevated feel, and a rather formal rhythmic sense and some bracing left hand playing. The "little stars" rank among the most perfectly realized I've heard, with layered dynamics within the quiet, elevated music. Fukuma then cools things off a bit, creating a rarified, detached sound on his way to the chains of trills, which he delivers with a delicate touch, creating an ethereal foundation from which the other notes to emerge. He delivers a peaceful, lovely coda to cap things off.

Looks like I'll end up buying all of Fukuma's recordings.
 
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If a pianist is gonna start a new Schubert piano sonata cycle, why not announce intentions by starting off with D960? William Youn includes the repeat and starts off slow and austere, highlighting, discreetly, some left hand playing, while keeping the long Molto moderato moving forward smoothly. He manages to bring out all voices with superb clarity without overemphasizing anything, and he uses pauses expertly, not overdoing those, either. He delivers right hand figures with perfect weight and duration for each note, he delivers supremely clear accompaniment, and then, of course, he delivers superb bass trills. So basically flawless is Youn's playing that one might, just for a second, think it's too perfect. He's gotta botch something. Youn's playing is not the most emotive around, so I guess there's that, but that hardly counts as a flaw with playing like this. Typically, I don't really think of Youn as a hard hitting pianist, because that's not his thing, but here he shows he can do so when so inclined. In the Andante sostenuto, Youn delivers lovely melodies, and the accompaniment is halting. Maybe that's a flaw, except for the perfect execution and realization, which Youn amplifies when he speeds up and plays the middle section with more lyricism and tension, and some terse, powerful left hand playing. Youn plays the Scherzo at a brisk, clear pace, and again his clarity of voices really stands out. One can follow the insistent, perfectly poised left hand, or the brightly colored melodies emerging form the right with equal ease. Youn starts the concluding movement firmly but not with a massive bang, and almost like Zimerman, he sort of clips it a bit. This means that the fortissimo playing later has more impact, and the gently insistent, indeed unyielding left hand playing sounds quite compelling, somehow drawing attention away from the melodies, though not really. Very nice. As predicted. Less predictable is the rushed coda, which adds a nice touch. He closes the disc out with D157. Whenever I heard the opening, memories, never too old, of Volodos' recording comes to mind. Youn does things differently. He zips through the Allegro ma non troppo, delivering a less beautiful take, obviously on purpose. It's more about propulsive energy. The Andante likewise gets played briskly, and somewhat unusually, Youn does not play with unlimited beauty, instead focusing on simplicity. It works, but sounds colder than Volodos. He closes things out with a crisp, light Menuetto. He plays slightly against expectations in the sonata, but delivers.

D664 starts off the second disc of the set. This sonata can never sound too beautiful, and Youn is just the guy to demonstrate that. The listener need only wait until the first arpeggio to relish the insanely delicate touch he deploys, and he delivers the entire movement with an at times almost eerie steadiness. The dynamics alter gently, and the music at times sounds serene to the point of near stasis, with time itself suspended as each note coaxes the listener's ear. Allegro moderato has rare been so ideally moderate. In the Andante, Youn ups the beauty and serenity even more. Somehow. As the music rises gently in volume to the climax, it sounds inevitable and while loud, it remains calm. And then, Youn plays the concluding Allegro almost stupid beautiful to open. He neither over- nor under-emphasizes the rhythmic component of the movement, keeping things moving along at a nice pace. No one, and I mean no one, has delivered a better little A Major. Next comes the cobbled together D571/604/570 sonata. Right away, in the opener, the music sounds like the accompanying text is missing. Youn plays with multiple, quiet levels at once, and he creates a sense of drama that makes me hope he ends up accompanying some equally accomplished singer in Schubert's song cycles. In the middle, before the return of the opening material, Youn plays the melody with almost inhuman beauty. The second "movement" does not really sound of a piece, of course, but Youn does his level best to make it fit, and he introduces a bit of left hand weight. The last two movements blend in, and again Youn demonstrates his ability to play with ridiculous beauty in the concluding Allegro. The set closes out with the A Minor D784 sonata. This sonata fares best with a bit of bite and strength added into the mix. Youn starts off the Allegro giusto with a dark, brooding austerity. The left hand trill that leads to the first instance of loud playing sounds foreboding, but Youn ultimately does not deliver thundering playing. For those demanding imposing fortissimo playing, Youn may disappoint, but the tradeoff is that the music sounds more controlled and desperate, yet restrained. The Andante finds Youn playing with his customary beauty, and then the Allegro vivace finds Youn playing with more grit and drive, making it obvious that the opening movement sounds exactly the way he wants. To be sure, others hit harder in this movement, too, it's just that everything here is what the pianist wants. So, D784 does come off well, if not as comparatively well as the other sonatas on offer here.

Superb sound.

A purchase of the year.
 
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Until very recently, I hadn't seen the name Minsoo Sohn, or if I had, I forgot seeing it. That changed when he dropped an LvB sonata cycle. Before digging into that, I had to do some homework, especially since this Honens release of Liszt transcriptions and Liszt's Paganini Etudes popped up for a few bucks. Sohn was born in Korea and has done the competition thing. Notably, he studied in Boston under Russell Sherman.

The disc opens with Liszt's transcription of Bach's Prelude and Fugue in A Minor. Out of the gate, Sohn demonstrates an unerring steadiness in his playing, and his tone sounds smooth, controlled, and entirely unruffled. He unfurls the fugal writing with seeming ease and obvious clarity and he never sounds out of sorts. He also introduces fairly little oomph into the mix, until the end, when he scales way up and approximates an organ quite nicely.

To Liszt proper, the same exact traits appear in the G Minor Etude. Which ends up limiting the impact a bit. Sohn has no problem at all playing the music, it just sounds formal and restrained. Surely, Liszt's creations inspired by Paganini's creations should dazzle with garish fireworks. While things improves with the Octaves Etude, Sohn again plays it too formally. One gets the sense that he may not have been overly familiar with the pieces and opted to play it safe, though obviously that may not be the case. La Campanella offers the best example of his style. He dispatches everything clearly, with steady left hand playing, and sparkling right hand playing, with flawless runs and nuanced tapering, but it all sounds just a bit too cool and restrained.

The transcription of Beethoven's Adelaide follows, and it offers more of the same, though here one gets to hear hints of how Sohn may handle straight-up Beethoven. And it's not so bad, since, of course, more restrained Beethoven potentially makes more sense than restrained Liszt.

The disc closes out with Réminiscences de Don Juan. It offers and extended example of Sohn's artistry. Technically assured, with everything in its place, but almost entirely devoid of strongly distinctive personality. One can certainly enjoy the conservatory and competition level playing as an example of proper, clean execution, but something goes missing. I hope the same does not hold true for his Beethoven.
 


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