CD and Other Review

Review: Brahms: Solo Piano Works Volume 3 (Jonathan Plowright)

British pianist Jonathan Plowright continues his much-lauded coverage of Brahms’ solo piano music with this third volume in the series for BIS. It opens with the 15 Variations on a Hungarian Melody from 1853 (Op. 21, No 2), an earlier manifestation of Brahms’ fascination with Hungarian gypsy music that stemmed from his relationship with violinist Eduard Reményi and received fuller expression in the gypsy rondo of his First Piano Quartet, Op. 25. Like Brahms’ gypsy forays, his 16 Waltzes, Op. 39 (from 1865) were regarded by some critics as unconscionable descents into mainstream sensibility; they are indeed popular works, but no less delightful for this, and delivered by Plowright with sprightly vigour and zest. The influence of Beethoven and Schubert is evident in the Eight Klavierstücke of Op. 76 (1878), which move into deeper, more mysterious territory. Finally, with the Six Klavierstücke of Op. 118 (1892), we are plunged headlong into deep, stream-of-consciousness introspection, contemplation juxtaposed with volcanic anguish. The last of these is particularly disquieting, foreshadowing Debussy and defying resolution as it erupts and disappears into the mist. There is a dizzyingly broad spectrum of emotional terrain to traverse over these four sets of pieces, and Plowright navigates it…

August 12, 2016
CD and Other Review

Review: Royer, Rameau: Vertigo (Jean Rondeau)

“Two magicians, two master architects, amongst the most wildly imaginative and brilliant of their era; two composers who also tried to capture echoes of grand theatre with the palette offered by their keyboard.” Thus does 25-year-old French harpsichord prodigy Jean Rondeau characterise Rameau and the young Turk snapping at his heels, Royer; thus does Rondeau set the stage for a sweetly bellicose suite in which Rameau and Royer wage war across a Prélude and three entrées – Poetry, Music and Dance – before settling on Royer’s exquisite L’Aimable. The venue is the Château d’Assas. The instrument is its famous harpsichord, favoured for its capacious sonority; its rich bass, its unexpectedly warm middle register and its crisp, silvery, flute-like upper register. Here, Rondeau is free to indulge his fancy and conjure up the complimentary worlds of the theatre and salon in pieces such as Rameau’s delicate Les Tendres Plaintes and more vigorous Les Sauvages, and Royer’s dramatic Le Vertigo and tender La Zaïde. Rondeau’s playing, as always, seems locked in a struggle between lyricism and contemplation, passion and detachment. Which is part of its magic. And if one is in danger of being – pleasantly, it must be said – crushed…

August 12, 2016
CD and Other Review

Review: Galuppi: Harpsichord Sonatas, Op. 1 (Andrea Chezzi)

Baldassare Galuppi is one of those unfortunate composers who were hailed in their lifetimes as being among the finest music-makers…and then promptly forgotten. Galuppi’s writing is in the galant style, essentially the precursor to the Classical era – his melodies might be simple, but they’re never simplistic. This sort of music, so full of elegance and warmth, can sound a tad trite if it’s not played with panache. However, that’s not a concern in this case! Andrea Chezzi brings brilliance to these sonatas when required, but most enjoyably, a definite sense of playfulness. For example, the opening Sonata No 1 in C Major, Op. 1, is given some additional tonal shifts from some well-timed use of the harpsichord’s stops, cheekily jumping from a dark sound to something more nasal in an echoed phrase. On the more reflective side of things, the slower movements are given a lovingly rounded sense of melody. The liner notes point out that this collection of sonatas was never composed as a set but was collated by Galuppi from various works. As a result, some of the sonatas are in three movements, while others are a single movement. While this might sound like a negative, it’s…

August 12, 2016