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The Italian Invasion

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The fourth volume in Baglini's Schumann survey offers more of the same of what came before. The disc opens with Fantasiestücke, Op 12, and the first two pieces offer bold stylistic contrasts, with an exceedingly gentle and dreamy Eusebius in Des Abends and a fiery, impulsive, explosive Florestan in Aufschwung. And so it goes throughout, with some nice highlights. Grillen is purposely clunky and exaggerated, and In der Nacht takes very seriously the "with passion" instruction. Baglini tends to go somewhat or fully to extremes within pieces, as both Fabel and Traumes Wirren demonstrate so those wanting more even keel Schumann may want something else. I'm not sure I want my Schumann to be even keel. Anyway, Baglini delivers the goods.

Next comes the title track, as it were. While Baglini is no slouch, there are other more beautiful, dreamy versions out there, and here the tendency to push the Florestan bits make the piece a bit larger scale than I often prefer. (I gotta say, after hearing Yefim Bronfman play the piece as an encore, where he made it abundantly clear from his playing that this is a piece he adores, the recordings I've listened to since sound a bit too studio-bound and not quite sincere enough.) The Three Romances, Op 28 follow, and the outer pieces are bold and sometimes clangorous, but the middle piece (Einfach) sounds dreamy and irresistibly beautiful. Most excellent. The little without opus Ahnung is nicely handled, as well.

Then comes the disc closer, one of Schumann's great works, Gesänge der Frühe, Op 133. Starting with a dark, rich, and as played, almost organ-like texture, Baglini keeps the sound tranquil as directed. The pianist actually keeps much of his playing under wraps for the second piece, not going over the top, instead offering accenting of just the right amount. Excellent. The third movement Lebhaft is unabashedly extroverted and heavy but springy. The fourth movement is likewise extroverted in nature, with Baglini playing with a headlong style through most of the piece. The piece ends with a slow, somber Im Anfange ruhiges, im Verlauf bewegtes Tempo, in which the pianist establishes a dreamy but even less stable than normal feel which works quite well. I'm not sure he rises to the best versions out there (Anderszewski, say), but Baglini delivers a fine version in his ongoing complete survey. I look forward to the next disc.



Amazon UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07HGNRK39/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21
 
This site contains affiliate links for which pink fish media may be compensated.
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At last, Roberto Prosseda's Mozart sonata cycle is complete*. And it offers more of the same. The opening pages of the Allegro of K333 sparkle, with Prosseda tossing in his personal rubato and accents, and the Vallotti tuned Fazioli again sounds impossibly beautiful. This beauty is further exploited in the Andante cantabile, which manages to sound ravishing when Prosseda plays staccato, albeit gently, and one eagerly listens as Prosseda offers a glorious eleven minutes and change of playing. He caps off the sonata with a playful Allegretto grazioso. A good start. Next comes the K475/K457 super-sonata. The Fantasia starts off by taking advantage of the Fazioli's powerful and clean sound down low, and Prosseda plays the movement with nice amounts of drama and power, offering something of a middle ground between Anderszewski and YES in terms of heft and intensity. The sonata proper is lighter in mien, with crisp articulation and, at least in the Allegro assai, some delightfully sharp sounding high register playing. I tend to prefer a bit more bite to the sonata overall, but Prosseda delivers a quite nice version. Comparatively better, meaning it kicks butt, is K533/494. Prosseda plays with something approaching insouciance in the Allegro, and again, the at times bright sound of the Fazioli aids and abets the artist's vision, and Prosseda once again delivers a full-length, every repeat included slow movement that allows the listener to wallow in the sonic goodness.

Disc two starts with one of the greatest ever recordings of K545. I mean, this cycle has had some high highlights to this point, but this single sonata alone justifies the whole project. Prosseda delivers such a silky, beautiful tone, and he embellishes so freely but tastefully, and he injects such a sense of joy to the Allegro, that it simply charms. Prosseda then plays the Andante with immense beauty, and perhaps moves beyond the confines of classicism more than a bit, but who cares? And the Rondo, well, the Rondo is pure joy start to finish, with a nicely accented coda. K570 follows, and the fairly heavily embellished Allegro is higher energy than K545, and almost sounds like a perpetuum mobile movement, with the accompaniment keeping things of track. The Adagio is taken very slowly and may at times actually be too beautiful. Nah. The Allegretto is fun and plucky, with Prosseda poking out many of the notes with a delightful staccato and bass notes weighted just so. Very nice. The final sonata starts with an Allegro that again delights, though some of the playing starts to just a bit congested at times. Prosseda returns to his almost too beautiful playing in the Adagio, and he adds a bit of forlorn drama, and it sounds just nifty. The extra-bright and crisp Allegretto ends the sonata and cycle in outstanding fashion. Throw in the Sonata Movement K312 as a bold and pointed encore, and one gets a twofer of no little accomplishment.

Prosseda's final installment of his Mozart set matches up to the standard set by the first two volumes. Due to the instrument and tuning, the set sounds just a bit different, a bit novel, when compared to other sets. That alone may make it worth hearing. The pianist's individual and at times idiosyncratic playing, along with the at times immense levels of aural beauty he conjures, are what make the set worth hearing in the end. This is not The One, the definitive set of the sonatas, but it is fantastic. Between Prosseda, Dumont, Mauser, Say, and of course Endres and Youn, one could almost say we are living in the best time ever for Mozart fans. (JK, for Lili Kraus, if for no other reason.) This newest complete cycle makes me look forward to future Mozart sonata cycles.

Sound quality is even better than the real thing.



* And wouldn't you know it, but only a matter of months after releasing the third volume, Decca Italy is set to issue a discounted price three volume set.



Amazon UK link to MP3 (do NOT buy MP3): https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07N6LH2X4/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21
 
This site contains affiliate links for which pink fish media may be compensated.
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Giuseppe Albanese's solo Liszt recital disc from a few years back is one of the great modern Liszt solo recital discs. This recording of the concertos and other works for piano and orchestra is not to the same level. To be sure, the takes are romantic, but here that means there is an emphasis on the slower music, making the works less intense and overtly virtuosic than normal. Make no mistake, Albanese can and does let rip in some passages, and he dazzles when he does, and his slow playing has some real heft and richness to it. The Malediction and piano-and-orchestra version of the famous Mephisto Waltz make nice additions, but the latter, in particular, reinforces the relative lack of diabolicality of the disc. Not a whiff; rather, more of what could have been type release. I'm still quite glad to have it.


Amazon UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07DKVQCJ3/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21
 
This site contains affiliate links for which pink fish media may be compensated.
711R4mdUUmL._SS425_.jpg



At last, Roberto Prosseda's Mozart sonata cycle is complete*. And it offers more of the same. The opening pages of the Allegro of K333 sparkle, with Prosseda tossing in his personal rubato and accents, and the Vallotti tuned Fazioli again sounds impossibly beautiful. This beauty is further exploited in the Andante cantabile, which manages to sound ravishing when Prosseda plays staccato, albeit gently, and one eagerly listens as Prosseda offers a glorious eleven minutes and change of playing. He caps off the sonata with a playful Allegretto grazioso. A good start. Next comes the K475/K457 super-sonata. The Fantasia starts off by taking advantage of the Fazioli's powerful and clean sound down low, and Prosseda plays the movement with nice amounts of drama and power, offering something of a middle ground between Anderszewski and YES in terms of heft and intensity. The sonata proper is lighter in mien, with crisp articulation and, at least in the Allegro assai, some delightfully sharp sounding high register playing. I tend to prefer a bit more bite to the sonata overall, but Prosseda delivers a quite nice version. Comparatively better, meaning it kicks butt, is K533/494. Prosseda plays with something approaching insouciance in the Allegro, and again, the at times bright sound of the Fazioli aids and abets the artist's vision, and Prosseda once again delivers a full-length, every repeat included slow movement that allows the listener to wallow in the sonic goodness.

Disc two starts with one of the greatest ever recordings of K545. I mean, this cycle has had some high highlights to this point, but this single sonata alone justifies the whole project. Prosseda delivers such a silky, beautiful tone, and he embellishes so freely but tastefully, and he injects such a sense of joy to the Allegro, that it simply charms. Prosseda then plays the Andante with immense beauty, and perhaps moves beyond the confines of classicism more than a bit, but who cares? And the Rondo, well, the Rondo is pure joy start to finish, with a nicely accented coda. K570 follows, and the fairly heavily embellished Allegro is higher energy than K545, and almost sounds like a perpetuum mobile movement, with the accompaniment keeping things of track. The Adagio is taken very slowly and may at times actually be too beautiful. Nah. The Allegretto is fun and plucky, with Prosseda poking out many of the notes with a delightful staccato and bass notes weighted just so. Very nice. The final sonata starts with an Allegro that again delights, though some of the playing starts to just a bit congested at times. Prosseda returns to his almost too beautiful playing in the Adagio, and he adds a bit of forlorn drama, and it sounds just nifty. The extra-bright and crisp Allegretto ends the sonata and cycle in outstanding fashion. Throw in the Sonata Movement K312 as a bold and pointed encore, and one gets a twofer of no little accomplishment.

Prosseda's final installment of his Mozart set matches up to the standard set by the first two volumes. Due to the instrument and tuning, the set sounds just a bit different, a bit novel, when compared to other sets. That alone may make it worth hearing. The pianist's individual and at times idiosyncratic playing, along with the at times immense levels of aural beauty he conjures, are what make the set worth hearing in the end. This is not The One, the definitive set of the sonatas, but it is fantastic. Between Prosseda, Dumont, Mauser, Say, and of course Endres and Youn, one could almost say we are living in the best time ever for Mozart fans. (JK, for Lili Kraus, if for no other reason.) This newest complete cycle makes me look forward to future Mozart sonata cycles.

Sound quality is even better than the real thing.



* And wouldn't you know it, but only a matter of months after releasing the third volume, Decca Italy is set to issue a discounted price three volume set.



Amazon UK link to MP3 (do NOT buy MP3): https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07N6LH2X4/?tag=pinkfishmedia-21

Yes very good, thanks for pointing it out.
 
This site contains affiliate links for which pink fish media may be compensated.
My feeling about Prosseda, having listened to the Mozart some more, the set with 310 rather than the one reviewed above, is that it's essentially an interpretation for the Fazioli he has at his disposal, the way he plays is inspired by what knows he can do with his instrument. I think that you just couldn't play like that on a forte-piano or on a harpsichord or clavichord or indeed on some other types of modern pianos. I like it when you sense that a performance is like an encounter with music, musician and instrument.

I also think that it's revealing for how far you can get playing Mozart lightly, rather than symphonically or oepratically or Sturm und Drang.

Hard to know what the effect of the unequal temperament is, but I bet it has an effect.

In the past I've not have good experiences with Fazioli instruments, indeed I've had some bad experiences. But this sounds great! I wonder if the Fazioli pianos I've heard have been much larger.
 
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Rarely do I focus on the liner notes of a recording. I just don't care. Most of the time, I don't even read them, and now that I buy more downloads than optical discs, I either don't get notes or never even look at them. For this physical media purchase, though, I decided to take a peek. Maurizio Baglini penned notes extending to fourteen booklet pages for Schumann's Album für die Jugend. He provides a separate written description for each of the sixty-two tracks on the two discs, in addition to a short essay preamble. Baglini put a lot of thought and effort into this recording, and it shows. While the music remains simple and direct, Baglini's playing does occasionally veer into the romantic and perhaps slightly overcooked when it comes to high level dynamics. On the flip-side, the quiet playing he coaxes from his Fazioli is quite beautiful and at times sweet. Overall, this recording of these works is probably the most enjoyable in my collection, more so than even Michael Endres'.

If and when Baglini finishes his Schumann cycle, assuming the quality level stays the same as the releases to date, it will be my preferred complete set among the three I will own - le Sage and Ciocarlie being the others - and it is much better than my memories of the Demus set I offloaded years ago.

SOTA+ sound.

The recording more than makes up for the terrible trousers and boots pictured on the cover. (Seriously, dude.)
 
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Giuseppe Albanese is a pianist I feel compelled to watch and listen to just to hear what he does next. He started his DG Italia career with a disc of Austro-Germanic fare, then switched to Liszt - ranging from one of the most dazzling recitals from the last decade to a somewhat disappointing set of concertos - then moved on to this, a disc of transcriptions of dance or dance-themed pieces. As an artist, he places a premium on showing off what he can do, which is fine, because he can do quite a lot.

Before settling in for a complete listen to this disc, I started by listening to Herbert Schuch's recording of Weber's Invitation to the Dance, heretofore my reference for this piece. (Weird, I know, to have a reference of this piece.) In it's 8'19", Schuch packs rhythmic snap, clean articulation, lightness and weight in perfect measure, in a performance that flows and sounds lovely. Albanese opts for the Carl Tausig transcription, and thus for something rather different. The opening is more relaxed, more precious, and more focused on minute effects than rhythmic snap. And what effects. The trills, glissandi, and dancing figurations sparkle with the Fazioli's high end. And then a grand arpeggio leads to the main dancing theme, lazy and lilting. Albanese just can't but show off the upper registers of the playing, just as he cannot help but show off the swelling dynamics the instrument can generate. And he also, because he can, shows how to play with not one, not two, but seemingly three or four dynamic ranges at once. He can only pull off this prestidigitation by adopting his tempi of choice. (Or maybe not; maybe he could do it playing crazy fast.) It is garish virtuosity of the highest, most cultured sort.

Next up is Ernst von Dohnanyi's transcription of the waltz from Leo Delibes' Coppelia. As undanceable as a waltz can be, Albanese hams it up again. Given the nature of the music and transcription, hoping for something more doesn't seem reasonable. He uses the Magic Merlin Fazioli for this piece, and the Debussy transcription to come, and the sonic differences between instruments are subtle but noticeable.

Next comes Mikhail Pletnev's transcription of Tchaikovsky's The Nutcracker Suite. Pletnev's version seems to be comparatively popular among virtuoso pianists, and with good reason. Here Albanese takes full advantage of the quick upper register decays and the low register heft, and he plays with enough rhythmic good sense to fully support his glittering and punchy playing of the music. And if one wants to hear a piano fill a listening space as well as nearly any orchestral recording, this is it, in the Pas de deux. Seriously, this would make as good a test track for super-speakers as any piano recording I have ever heard.

Next comes the transcription of Stravinsky's The Firebird by none other than Guido Agosti. Here, the instrument and Albanese's ability to generate a massive and flawlessly controlled sonority generate excitement and heat sufficient to singe one's ear hair, whether using speakers or cans. Just when one thinks the opening Danse infernale is where it's at, along comes the Berceuse that makes one want to hear what Albanese might do with Messiaen. Yep, the Finale is a quasi-almost-actual-orchestral transcription. Nice.

At this point in critical listening, it was time to take a little break and switch to Yukio Yokoyama playing his own transcription of Debussy's Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune. Unabashedly pianistic, bright, and colorful, Yokoyama writes to his cool strengths, as he shudders out some passages, and dispatches runs and forte chords with precision, speed and accuracy. It loses the atmospheric effects of the proper version, but how could it not? Albanese uses Leonard Borwick's transcription, and this one does a better job of creating a languid, hazy atmosphere, though the radical nature of the original is lost. As the piece progresses, Albanese's massive sonority again takes on a more orchestral than it should sound, and his wide dynamic range helps immensely, as does the warmer sounding piano.
The disc closes with Ravel's La Valse. There are other virtuosic performances in the catalog, but none with as much power or garish but effective nonchalance. Albanese makes a meal of the piece, rushing, swelling, pounding, whispering, even strumming the strings.
There's fin de siècle excess aplenty, and Albanese never sounds rough or unready.

This recording is most decidedly not one for those seeking deep piano playing. It is a very fine recording for those who, at least from time to time, want to revel in virtuosity for the sake of virtuosity.

SOTA++ sound from the Fazioli Concert Hall.
 


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