Soler Piano Works (CD Review)

by Ryan Ross 

Soler! Gerardo Teissonniére, pianist. Steinway & Sons 30242\

In my December writeup of Johan Dalene’s Mendelssohn and Bruch album, I noted how often my views diverge from those of other critics. Well, here we go again. I’m already seeing what I consider to be excessive enthusiasm for this disc. Either I am living in The Twilight Zone, or some folks aren’t listening that carefully. Forgive my candor (see what I did there?), but it does get lonely being the one to say the most negative things in Google search results. Nonetheless, I have to call it like I see it. My responsibility as a critic is reporting what I hear in the recording, rather than what I hear about the recording. If that puts me alone in a corner, so be it. Thus positioned, my regretful verdict is that Gerardo Teissonnière’s playing doesn’t match his obvious sincerity. The main culprits are rhythmic inconsistency and a mediocre tone. Let’s jump in.

 

First off, an admission: I was unfamiliar with Teissonnière’s work before taking on this review task. I would have sampled his other performances in any case, but now I had a pressing question: does he always play like this? Yes and no. His Schubert Impromptus show the occasional wobbly stretch, but nothing to rival a crass, even poundy approach to loud dynamics. His debut recording for Steinway, featuring Beethoven’s final three sonatas, also begins to tell the tale for this latest release. Teissonnière likes big, thick chords and thundering octaves. He’s even capable of an attractively soft tone, as his Opp. 109 and 110 prove. But his biggest weakness is a lack of rhythmic control, particularly in intricate passages.

 

Soler doesn’t offer many of the Romantic-style textures Teissonnière clearly relishes. This music tests the performer in other respects. Unfortunately, they expose Teissonnière’s vulnerabilities to a greater degree. Runs of quicker notes sometimes sound uneven. Simpler figurations fare better in this respect. But if there is a group of four 16th or 32nd notes, especially many in succession and with lots of concurrent activity in other voices, there is a decent chance he fudges the timing of at least one. The hand-crossing passages in the R. 84 D Major sound herky-jerky. Ditto the accompaniment to the tail motive of the R. 39 D Minor, and certain right-hand thirds in the same sonata. These stretches and others throughout seem insufficiently practiced even if they weren’t. Similar issues plague parts of R. 15. Tone quality is also a problem, as when some of the rapidly repeated notes get underplayed in R. 88.

 

The impression I get of Teissonnière’s playing overall is that of a strong but not elite talent trying to make the most of his gifts. There are many fine moments, but strain and inconsistency rear their heads nearly as often. Soler is not Beethoven or Schubert in terms of recording saturation. But there are several other available options for his sonatas, including a quality Naxos series. Best of all is Alicia de Larrocha, whose own selections partially overlap with Teissonnière’s. If comparing her performances to his doesn’t demonstrate at least some of what I said here, maybe I really am living in an alternate universe.

Recent Releases No. 83 (CD Reviews)

by Karl Nehring

Dedications. Randall Woolf: going home; Pierre Jalbert: Two Sides – I. Freely, lyrical II. Propulsive, driving; David Del Tredici:  Farewell, R.W. (from Facts of Life); Bun-Ching Lam: Five Contemplations – I. Search Search II. Seek Seek III. Ennui IV. Wutang in Light Rain V. Let Go; João Luiz: MadrigAfro II: Part I – Curandeiro Part II - Movido, tempo de Afoxé; Laura Kaminsky: Ruminations; Carlos Crillo: Mariluna – 1. Reflejo de la luna sobre la superficie de el agua… 2. Y la mar se refleja en la luna; Marilyn Ziffrin: Rhapsody; Chester Biscardi: Finding Beauty in Small Places; Peter Sculthorpe: *Oh, T.I.! – I. Island Song II. Night Song. David Leisner, guitar; *w/Alan Moverman, piano. Azica Records ACD-71389

As you can see from the track listing above, the composers are all modern-day. Guitarist Leisner (b. 1953), who is also a composer himself, writes that during the COVID-19 pandemic, “artists, like everyone else, were struggling to find ways of being useful and keeping up their spirits. One idea that occurred to me was to create a series of commissions of solo guitar works by composers I greatly admire, who happen to be friends as well. Chester Biscardi, Pierre Jalbert, Laura Kaminsky, Bun-Ching Lam and João Luiz, an illustrious group, all responded enthusiastically and generously to my proposal.” He goes on to recount that there had been other pieces he had commissioned in previous years that he had not yet recorded, a piece by Marlyn Ziffrin that he had not commissioned but wished to record, and a movement from a piece by the late David Del Tredici that he desired to re-record. The album starts off promisingly with the opening going home by Randall Woolf, but listeners expecting much in the way of melodic or harmonic richness may find themselves feeling let down. Most of the compositions have a sparse sense about them, although that can be interesting in its own way, as in the compositions by Bun-Ching Lam, Laura Kaminsky, Marilyn Ziffrin, and Chester Biscardi. Adding the piano to the mix in the final Sculthorpe piece provides some welcome sonic richness. 

 

Vesper. Thomas Adès: Forgotten Dances; Harrison Birtwistle: Beyond the White Hand: Construction with Guitar Player; Guitar and White Hand; Adès: Habanera from ‘The Exterminating Angel’; Birtwistle: Oockooing Bird (arr. for guitar by Forbes Henderson); Sleep Song; Berceuse de Jeanne (arr. for guitar by Forbes Henderson); Sad Song (arr. for guitar by Forbes Henderson); Je sui aussi; James Dillon: 12 Caprices. Sean Shibe, guitar. PENTATONE PTC 5187 518

Sean Shibe (b. 1992), who was born in Edinburgh, Scotland, of English and Japanese parentage, is one of the world’s leading guitarists. Over the past several years we have reviewed several albums on which he has appeared as a contributor, plus one of his solo albums, Camino PENTATONE PTC 5186 670), about which we observed (you can read the full review here) “none of the playing here is overtly virtuosic or ostentatious; instead, Shibe employs his skills on the guitar to lead the listener gently into a sound world of calm and reflection that is not, however, devoid of energy and color.” But where Camino had featured music by composers such as Mompou, Satie, and Ravel, this new release titled Vesper features music by composers including Adès (b. 1971), Birtwistle (1934-2022), and Dillon (b. 1950) – when I saw those names, I must confess that I was not expecting to be led gently into a sound world of calm and reflection. My exposure to the music of Birtwistle and has been limited but unimpressive. I’ve never heard any music by Dillon. That leaves Adès, whose music I have encountered reasonably often over the past few years but have never really cared for. So, then – full disclosure: from the list of composers, I was not very optimistic about this release; however, this was a guitar album, not an orchestral album, and Sean Shibe is an amazing guitarist, so I was willing to try to put my prejudices aside and give it a good listen.

 

So, then – did I have a complete change of heart about these composers after spending many hours listening to Camino? Well, yes and no. The opening Forgotten Dances by Adès comprises six fascinating pieces that somehow manage to stretch the limits of what can be done on the guitar while at the same time alluding to traditional dance forms. It’s a delightful set, a little quirky but highly entertaining. It was a relief to be pleasantly surprised by Adès, but alas, such was not to be the case with Birtwistle. His Beyond the White Hand: Construction with Guitar Player; Guitar and White Hand sports the longest title on the album, the longest duration (18:26), but the least amount of melodic inspiration. It broods, meanders, and draws some thumps and bumps from the guitar – overall, it strikes me as a composition more interesting to play than enjoyable to hear. He much briefer (1:55) Guitar and White Hand comes as a kind of echo, easier on the ear, but without much substance. The Adès Habanera is forceful, giving Shibe quite a workout.

 

The mood changes with the next set of short selections by Birtwistle, which are much more melodic and easy on the ears than the White Hand music; really, folks, it’s hard to believe it’s the same composer. (And thus you can see why I wrote “yes and no” above.) As for composer James Dillon, his 12 Caprices, which are brief little snippets – the whole set coming in at 10:35 – the gentle mood established by the preceding Birtwistle set continues, although a tad more, well, capriciously. These are pieces that are at once playful and thoughtful. 

 

The booklet packaged with the CD contains a wealth of information about the composers and the music, plus a background narrative about the influential guitarist Julian Bream. PENTATONE has released a truly first-class production in Vesper, which earns a solid recommendation for fans of classical guitar. By the way, Sean Shibe did an NPR Tiny Desk concert at which he performed some of the music on this CD: you can find that video here. Enjoy!

Mozart & Beethoven Piano Concertos (CD Review)

 by Ryan Ross

Mozart: Piano Concerto No. 24 in C Minor, K. 491; Beethoven: Piano Concerto No. 3 in C Minor, Op. 37; 32 Variations in C Minor, WoO 80. Rafał Blechacz, pianist; Kent Nagano, conductor; Dresdner Philharmonie. DG 486 8940

While the most recent International Chopin Piano Competition was underway, I had a debate with other classical music fans on the app formerly known as Twitter. I remarked that all of the competition’s participants could technically run circles around Alfred Cortot, and that no amount of musicality overcomes my impatience with his messy playing. I received some hard pushback for these remarks, but remained trenchant. True, more than a few competition participants produced interpretations that were pristine yet soulless. But I thought I preferred this. “Just give me the music” I said, “and stay out of its way!”

 

I’m still something of a heretic for being allergic to Cortot’s pianism. But as I keep listening to and reviewing new recordings of standard repertoire, I’m gradually coming around to my debaters’ general point of view. You see, I’m getting bored with “pristine yet soulless.” I have heard multiple great recordings of both Mozart’s 24th Piano Concerto and Beethoven’s 3rd. Almost all of them are decades old. Many more recordings of both works have appeared since, even many technically excellent ones. But I’m afraid I cannot recall details in most of these. Rafał Blechacz’s new and nearly-pristine performances with Kent Nagano and the Dresden Philharmonic will likely belong to this second group.

 

Blechacz happens to have won the Chopin Competition more than two decades ago. Yeah, his skills are the envy of most pianists: flawless technique, impeccable control, and a sheeny polish overall. But “most pianists” isn’t “all pianists.” And when I listen to Blechacz here I’m faced with excellence that outpaces individuality. What can I get in these interpretations that I cannot get elsewhere? If this were the year 1900, probably quite a lot. But it’s 2026, and the world now teems with elite technicians.

 

Earlier, I said that Blechacz is nearly pristine in this recording. I stand by that, but there are still some drawbacks that only bolster my preference for other interpretations. The first mostly isn’t his fault: Nagano and the Dresden Philharmonic are at times too forceful in the Mozart. Tutti passages boom disproportionately to Blechacz’s comparatively subdued approach. Once or twice the orchestra moderately obscures the soloist where both play together. In short, I don’t think Blechacz and his supporting cast are precisely matched. The Beethoven concerto is better balanced, though even here I sense that Nagano wants to do more than his soloist. Which brings us to the second problem, and full circle to my initial statements: Blechacz doesn’t take any risks. At nearly every turn he declines to really lean into the music expressively. True, his reticence is often subtle, but subtleties weigh when I have umpteen other Op. 37 and WoO 80 takes to choose from. I need more fire than he’s prepared to supply, and there are plenty of other places where I can get it.

 

In past reviews I have emphasized a separation of purpose between live performances and recordings. Yes, record companies have bottom lines, and artists like lucrative deals. But the business of music often conflicts with less immediate concerns. Call me idealistic, but I happen to believe that what gets recorded should merit such preservation. It should also repay consumer investment. Frankly, I can’t muster related enthusiasm for this one. Performers like Blechacz are needed to share these works in person, foster communal joy and appreciation, and thereby keep the tradition alive. But apart from their desire to make nice livings, I see less value in every pianist committing standard rep to disc. If the riposte is that this release is a perfectly fine product for people to get to know these concerti, or to listen casually, I’ll concede the point. But how many more of those do we need? And when will diminishing returns finally force some sort of reckoning?