Versions for Piano Four-Hands. Christophe Sirodeau and Anna Zassimova. Melism MLS-CD-027.
By Bill Heck
Reviewing yet another recording of, say, Dvorak’s 9th Symphony, the New World, is fun in its own way; sometimes one of us might uncover a real gem. But how much more enjoyable to bring lesser-known but still rewarding music to the attention of our readers! This review is solidly of the latter type.
Antonin Dvorak’s Legends are nowhere near as well-known or as oft-recorded as his late symphonies, although many classical music lovers will be familiar with the former in their orchestral forms. What many of us may not realize is that these works were originally written for piano, specifically as “four-hands” versions, meant to be played by two players on one piano – four hands in use.
But why would a composer write for two people playing one piano? The Legends were composed in 1881; From the Bohemian Forest in 1883-4. The popularity of four-hand compositions at the time was due to a confluence of factors. First, and this is something that should cause us to truly reflect on how different musical life is today, there were no recordings. While at least larger cities hosted concerts, any listening done at home was to people in the house actually playing music. Second, in the growing middle class, not to mention the upper class, some level of competence among family members playing musical instruments was a sign of culture, and a well-appointed home would have a piano. Third, large families were the order of the day. Add up these factors: several musical family members, one instrument (the piano), and a desire to hear music – and perhaps show off to the neighbors – and there you have it. (One is tempted to suppose that an excuse for musically inclined young men and women to sit close proximity without inciting waves of opprobrium might have had some influence as well.)
Of course, four-hand compositions did not start with Dvorak; they date from at least the late 18th century. For example, Mozart composed a few such works, and Schubert composed more, as did Brahms. Meanwhile, Dvorak’s earlier Slavonic Dances were originally four-hand piano compositions, although the orchestral versions are far more often heard today.
Despite the attractions of these compositions, there are limitations. First, it must be possible for the two people involved to play them successfully, which requires some limits on the range of each part. It is hard enough for a single pianist to cross one hand over the other as some compositions require; having two people with hands all over the same keyboard could be a recipe for disaster. Secondly, as the works were meant to be popular among amateur musicians, composers might take it easy and “dumb down” the works, lest those home musicians find the required techniques beyond their abilities. By no means is that always the case, but don’t expect Bach or Beethoven-like depth in this format.
So what about these works? Fortunately for us, Dvorak was really good at balancing the requirements of the form and still producing interesting and enjoyable music. I don’t suppose that many listeners would call these works profound, but they are charming and surprisingly robust (if I can use that term) in a musical sense. They certainly are not musical bon-bons, all sweetness and devoid of substance; they contain passages of drama and swagger, and Dvorak sneaks in some interesting – in a few cases almost radical – harmonies on occasion. Indeed, the Legends were substantive enough that Dvorak orchestrated them within a year or so of their original publication.
As with Sirodeau’s disk of the Brahms Intermezzi that I reviewed on this site a short time ago, Sirodeau and Zassimova do not play the compositions in chronological order. Instead, they are arranged in an order that the musicians find appealing. (The excellent liner notes for this album explain some of the reasoning behind the ordering.) There is no reason to suppose that Dvorak had a sequence in mind for these little gems, and surely he did not envision pianists playing through the entire sets at one sitting, so the ordering here should work nicely for all but the most obsessive sticklers. Similarly, modern-day listeners will not necessarily play the disk straight through as they would a symphony or sonata; this is the sort of music that one might sample from time to time. The ordering here makes this particularly easy: the repeating pattern is a piece from the Bohemian Forest followed by three Legends. Each of these sequences provides a coherent listening treat.
By this time, the attentive reader surely is asking how the artists play the music. In a word, excellently: these are seasoned musicians who obviously care about bringing forward some music that should be heard more often. And at this point in the review, I normally would toss in a few comparisons – but not this time. For one thing, there are only a small handful of disks (I found three) featuring both the Legends and Bohemian Forest in four-hand versions, and the thoughtful combination and (re)arrangement of the works found here makes this disk unique. Furthermore, if the playing were questionable in any noticeable way, I would spend more time worrying about the competition – but it’s not. That’s not to say that I ignored other recordings completely: I did a little sampling, but nowhere did I hear obviously superior playing, and the current disk has the advantage of up-to-date recording technology.
Speaking of the recording, the sound of the Melism recording is fine; clear, natural, and full range. To my ears, it falls just short of the best in terms of the “piano in the room” dynamism and naturalness; perhaps the sound is just a smidge flattened rather than fully three dimensional. But that’s a quibble, thought of only when concentrating strictly on the recorded sound.
BH
To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here:
By Bill Heck
Antonin Dvorak’s Legends are nowhere near as well-known or as oft-recorded as his late symphonies, although many classical music lovers will be familiar with the former in their orchestral forms. What many of us may not realize is that these works were originally written for piano, specifically as “four-hands” versions, meant to be played by two players on one piano – four hands in use.
But why would a composer write for two people playing one piano? The Legends were composed in 1881; From the Bohemian Forest in 1883-4. The popularity of four-hand compositions at the time was due to a confluence of factors. First, and this is something that should cause us to truly reflect on how different musical life is today, there were no recordings. While at least larger cities hosted concerts, any listening done at home was to people in the house actually playing music. Second, in the growing middle class, not to mention the upper class, some level of competence among family members playing musical instruments was a sign of culture, and a well-appointed home would have a piano. Third, large families were the order of the day. Add up these factors: several musical family members, one instrument (the piano), and a desire to hear music – and perhaps show off to the neighbors – and there you have it. (One is tempted to suppose that an excuse for musically inclined young men and women to sit close proximity without inciting waves of opprobrium might have had some influence as well.)
Of course, four-hand compositions did not start with Dvorak; they date from at least the late 18th century. For example, Mozart composed a few such works, and Schubert composed more, as did Brahms. Meanwhile, Dvorak’s earlier Slavonic Dances were originally four-hand piano compositions, although the orchestral versions are far more often heard today.
So what about these works? Fortunately for us, Dvorak was really good at balancing the requirements of the form and still producing interesting and enjoyable music. I don’t suppose that many listeners would call these works profound, but they are charming and surprisingly robust (if I can use that term) in a musical sense. They certainly are not musical bon-bons, all sweetness and devoid of substance; they contain passages of drama and swagger, and Dvorak sneaks in some interesting – in a few cases almost radical – harmonies on occasion. Indeed, the Legends were substantive enough that Dvorak orchestrated them within a year or so of their original publication.
As with Sirodeau’s disk of the Brahms Intermezzi that I reviewed on this site a short time ago, Sirodeau and Zassimova do not play the compositions in chronological order. Instead, they are arranged in an order that the musicians find appealing. (The excellent liner notes for this album explain some of the reasoning behind the ordering.) There is no reason to suppose that Dvorak had a sequence in mind for these little gems, and surely he did not envision pianists playing through the entire sets at one sitting, so the ordering here should work nicely for all but the most obsessive sticklers. Similarly, modern-day listeners will not necessarily play the disk straight through as they would a symphony or sonata; this is the sort of music that one might sample from time to time. The ordering here makes this particularly easy: the repeating pattern is a piece from the Bohemian Forest followed by three Legends. Each of these sequences provides a coherent listening treat.
By this time, the attentive reader surely is asking how the artists play the music. In a word, excellently: these are seasoned musicians who obviously care about bringing forward some music that should be heard more often. And at this point in the review, I normally would toss in a few comparisons – but not this time. For one thing, there are only a small handful of disks (I found three) featuring both the Legends and Bohemian Forest in four-hand versions, and the thoughtful combination and (re)arrangement of the works found here makes this disk unique. Furthermore, if the playing were questionable in any noticeable way, I would spend more time worrying about the competition – but it’s not. That’s not to say that I ignored other recordings completely: I did a little sampling, but nowhere did I hear obviously superior playing, and the current disk has the advantage of up-to-date recording technology.
Speaking of the recording, the sound of the Melism recording is fine; clear, natural, and full range. To my ears, it falls just short of the best in terms of the “piano in the room” dynamism and naturalness; perhaps the sound is just a smidge flattened rather than fully three dimensional. But that’s a quibble, thought of only when concentrating strictly on the recorded sound.
BH
To listen to a brief excerpt from this album, click here:
