Bach: Christe, du Lamm Gottes, BWV 619 (Arr. G. Kurtág); Schumann: Study in Canonic Form, Op. 56 No. 1; Bach: Adagio from Sonata for Solo Violin in C major (Arr. Víkingur Ólafsson); Kurtág: Harmonica (Hommage á Borsody László) (From Játékok / Book 3); Bartók: Three Hungarian Folksongs from Csìk; Brahms: Intermezzo Op. 116, No. 4; Kurtág: A Voice in the Distance (From / Book 5); Birgisson: Where Life and Death May Dwell (Icelandic Folk Song); Bach: Trio Sonata No. 1, BWV 525: 1. Allegro moderato (arr. G. Kurtág); Kaldalóns: Ave María (Arr. Víkingur Ólafsson); Kurtág: Little Chorale (From Játékok / Book 1); Mozart: Laudate Dominum (Arr. Víkingur Ólafsson); Kurtág: Sleepily (From Játékok / Book 1); Schumann: Träumerei Op. 15, No. 7; Kurtág: Flowers We Are (From Játékok / Book 7); Adès: The Branch (Az Ág); Kurtág: Twittering (From Játékok / Book 1); Schumann: Vogel als Prophet Op. 82, No. 7; Brahms: Intermezzo Op. 116, No. 5; Kurtág: Scraps of a Colinda Melody – Faintly Recollected (Hommage à Farkas Ferenc) (From Játékok / Book 3). Víkingur Ólafsson, grand piano, CD1; upright piano, CD2. Deutsche Grammophon 486 1681.
By Karl W. Nehring
Having enjoyed and reviewed some previous albums by Víkingur Ólafsson (b.1984) in which he played music by Bach, Philip Glass, Debussy, and Rameau, all of which were really first-class releases in every way, I fully expected this new release by the young Icelandic pianist to be a good one; however; I was not fully prepared for what a delightfully rewarding release this unusual two-disc album turned out to be. As high as my expectations might have been, they were surpassed. This is an unusual album with an unusual backstory that involves Kurtág meeting the venerable Hungarian composer György Kurtág (b. 1926), whose music the pianist had been first introduced to by a recording given him by his father in the late 1990’s. More than 20 years later, much to his surprise, Ólafsson received an unexpected message while on tour: “György Kurtág would love to meet you while you are in Budapest for your upcoming concert.”
Although he was at first intimidated by the thought of meeting what he regarded as such a “fiercely intellecfual musical thinker and formidable teacher,” Ólafsson soon found Kurtág to be warm and welcoming, inviting the younger man to play for him on a beautiful Steinway that had belonged to Kurtág’s late wife. About this experience, Ólafsson recounts “I soon began playing the music that came to mind: Bach, Mozart, Haydn, Bartok, Icelandic folk songs. Kurtág would comment, make suggestions, tell a story – always full of insight and inspiration. In what felt like 15 minutes, two hours had gone by.” Later, after more of his routine of practice, travel, concerts, and meetings, Ólafsson found himself recalling that evening in Budapest, recalling “I felt like I had been reacquainted with some musical essence, and it gave me a feeling of lightness and joy. Wanting to write him a letter to thank him, I found myself at the piano instead, drawing up a map of works with Kurtág’s own music as a compass. The result is this album.”
The program on From Afar consists of 22 tracks that Ólafsson has chosen along the lines suggested his account above – some Bach, Mozart, Bartok, Icelandic folk songs (Haydn didn’t make the cut), et al., along with a generous helping of Kurtág. The musical selections for the most part are brief, many lasting less than two minutes. Although the brevity of the tracks and variety of the composers might seem to portend a crazy quilt of styles and moods, the overall impression given off by the album as the program moves along from track to track is actually quite consistent. From the opening brief snippet of Bach, which is calm and reflective, Ólafsson seems to be inviting us to join him in contemplating the beauty, peace, and joy to be found among the 88 keys of the piano. As he puts it, “throughout the album, there are intimate conversations and messages from afar – closely knit canons, transcriptions and dedications, as well as distant echoes of nearly forgotten, ancient melodies. And like a trail of shiny little stones in a moonlit forest, there are the works of Kurtág: his transcriptions of Bach and his on ever-growing selection of piano works, Játékok, or Games. In these works it is clear that Kurtág’s primary method of inquiry in the world of musical ideas is the same as that of the child: play.” Sprinkled among the works of the works of the composers of the past, these miniatures by Kurtág do indeed bring an element of playfulness to the proceedings -- never in an ironic or mocking way, but rather by offering upbeat, encouraging interjections from time to time.
As I have suggested above, intimacy and playfulness are two defining characteristics of the music on From Afar. And that music has been recorded not once, but twice, for this release, as Ólafsson explains: “This album contains two recordings of the same music, one made on a Steinway concert grand and the other made on an upright with a layer of felt covering the strings, a permanent soft pedal… For me as an artist, nothing will ever replace the large, resplendent canvas and unlimited colours of the grand piano, but the familial sincerity of the upright should not be underestimated. There is a confidentiality, a whispering intimacy to the sound of the upright piano that I love to experiment with. In this recording, the microphones are so close you can hear the keys depressed and released, the pedals creak, even the pianist breathing. I want the sound to reach the listener as if sitting on the piano bench with me… The upright piano interpretation as well. Its percussive materiality and the absence of forgiving overtones demand new timings and textures, a different attention to structure.” So yes, these really are two different albums. Each has a different sort of intimacy, a different sort of playfulness. My guess is that most listeners will give the Steinway disc the most attention; however, I hope they will not neglect the upright disc, for it is utterly fascinating and well worth serious and repeated listening. There really is something to be said about the “familial sincerity” of Ólafsson’s upright piano, especially when it is recorded in such a way that it seems to have been transported directly into your listening room – with the pianist himself in tow.
Ólafsson’s liner notes are both interesting and informative. In addition to the background essay material from which the excerpts above were taken, he also includes commentary on the musical selections included in the album. The title of the album might be From Afar, but the music, the sound, the liner notes, and the photography all work together to draw us close to the music and Ólafsson’s love for it. This is an interesting, involving, and endearing album that further enhances the growing reputation of this supremely talented and insightful master of the keyboard.
KWN
By Karl W. Nehring
Although he was at first intimidated by the thought of meeting what he regarded as such a “fiercely intellecfual musical thinker and formidable teacher,” Ólafsson soon found Kurtág to be warm and welcoming, inviting the younger man to play for him on a beautiful Steinway that had belonged to Kurtág’s late wife. About this experience, Ólafsson recounts “I soon began playing the music that came to mind: Bach, Mozart, Haydn, Bartok, Icelandic folk songs. Kurtág would comment, make suggestions, tell a story – always full of insight and inspiration. In what felt like 15 minutes, two hours had gone by.” Later, after more of his routine of practice, travel, concerts, and meetings, Ólafsson found himself recalling that evening in Budapest, recalling “I felt like I had been reacquainted with some musical essence, and it gave me a feeling of lightness and joy. Wanting to write him a letter to thank him, I found myself at the piano instead, drawing up a map of works with Kurtág’s own music as a compass. The result is this album.”
As I have suggested above, intimacy and playfulness are two defining characteristics of the music on From Afar. And that music has been recorded not once, but twice, for this release, as Ólafsson explains: “This album contains two recordings of the same music, one made on a Steinway concert grand and the other made on an upright with a layer of felt covering the strings, a permanent soft pedal… For me as an artist, nothing will ever replace the large, resplendent canvas and unlimited colours of the grand piano, but the familial sincerity of the upright should not be underestimated. There is a confidentiality, a whispering intimacy to the sound of the upright piano that I love to experiment with. In this recording, the microphones are so close you can hear the keys depressed and released, the pedals creak, even the pianist breathing. I want the sound to reach the listener as if sitting on the piano bench with me… The upright piano interpretation as well. Its percussive materiality and the absence of forgiving overtones demand new timings and textures, a different attention to structure.” So yes, these really are two different albums. Each has a different sort of intimacy, a different sort of playfulness. My guess is that most listeners will give the Steinway disc the most attention; however, I hope they will not neglect the upright disc, for it is utterly fascinating and well worth serious and repeated listening. There really is something to be said about the “familial sincerity” of Ólafsson’s upright piano, especially when it is recorded in such a way that it seems to have been transported directly into your listening room – with the pianist himself in tow.
Ólafsson’s liner notes are both interesting and informative. In addition to the background essay material from which the excerpts above were taken, he also includes commentary on the musical selections included in the album. The title of the album might be From Afar, but the music, the sound, the liner notes, and the photography all work together to draw us close to the music and Ólafsson’s love for it. This is an interesting, involving, and endearing album that further enhances the growing reputation of this supremely talented and insightful master of the keyboard.
KWN
