by Bill Heck
Sergei Prokofiev: Piano Music. Gyorgy Sandor. Volumes 1 – 5. Vox-NX-2084 to 2088
Continuing their project of reviving and re-releasing items from the Vox catalog, Naxos has turned out what appears to be the only currently available traversal of all of Sergei Prokofiev’s works for solo piano. These recordings were originally issued on six LPs (I owned the two volume version, each volume being a three LP boxed set); they subsequently appeared in CD format, reduced to five of the silver disks; and finally the current incarnation packages each of the five disks separately. The album covers are simple and mostly unicolored, one green, another yellow, etc., which provides a nice way to tell them apart quickly.
I've always wondered about the place of Prokofiev in the hearts and minds of classical music lovers, at least here in the states, partly because other Russian composers of his era have more appealing stories. Rachmaninoff, born in 1873, 18 years before Prokofiev (born 1891), left Russia immediately following the revolution in 1917, never to return, and perhaps is popularly regarded as one of the displaced, an exile pining for the homeland to which he could (or would) not return. Although Stravinsky, born in 1882, was prevented from returning to his homeland first by World War I and then by the Russian revolution, he had long been living a cosmopolitan existence in Europe, ending up later in the US; it’s easy to forget that he was Russian in the first place. Shostakovich, born in 1906, 15 years after Prokofiev, not only was a giant figure in the musical world, but in the popular imagination, and in reality, was the persecuted victim of Stalin, trapped in the USSR and in constant danger of professional destruction and likely of his life. Moreover, the popular view is that his music mocks and protests against the repressive Soviet bureaucracy and the horror of Stalinist dictatorship.
Prokofiev is sandwiched among these, not only musically, but also, and again in the popular perception, as the one who had escaped from Russia only to return in the midst of his career. Although he, too, faced difficulties with the regime, surely – or so we think – he at least made his peace with the Stalinists and the bureaucracy. In fact, it's probably more accurate to say that Prokofiev just didn't give an off-tune quarter note about Stalin, the bureaucracy, or many of his supposed musical colleagues, yielding only on occasion and just enough to keep out of the gulag but otherwise going his own way. But this history means that there is no tragic or heroic or romantic story to tell.
In any case, although Prokofiev is widely regarded as a major figure in modern classical music, actual performances of his works are relatively rare, at least compared to those of Rachmaninoff or Shostakovich. "Rare" doesn't mean never, but I’m guessing that concert goers these days might hear multiple works by Rachmaninoff or Stravinsky or Shostakovich for every one by Prokofiev.
I'm certainly not looking to debate the relative merits of these composers nor their popular images, but I would like to draw your attention to Prokofiev’s piano music. In all of his work, words like "sardonic", "witty", and even "humorous" immediately come to mind; sweeping long-form statements perhaps not so much. Compositionally, Prokofiev constantly plays with dissonance but never quite abandons tonality; to my ears, this helps to make his music both listenable and interesting. Tempos and tone range all over the place; boredom with this music is not likely a thing.
In regard to piano music specifically, it also helps to know that Prokofiev was a piano virtuoso. Indeed, during his time in the US, he supported himself as a pianist, not as a composer (which may go some way to explaining why he went back to Russia). But if you think that his orchestral output may be underperformed, it is as nothing compared to his solo piano output. No; his sonatas will never displace those of Beethoven, but much of his work deserves a hearing from any classical music fan.
On to the recordings at hand. As I'm reviewing the entire series of five CDs, I'll say right up front that none but the most dedicated Prokofiev fanboys/girls are likely to sit down and listen straight through to all of them. Instead, this series rewards selective listening: dip in anywhere for one or a few works; take them in small doses and bite-size chunks (even the sonatas are short), and enjoy the shifting kaleidoscopes of ideas, dissonances, and harmonies.
As to this particular collection, its first virtue is simply its completeness. Prokofiev wrote a lot of piano music; some of these pieces have been recorded multiple times, while others are unknown on disk. The more cynical among us might say that some of the unknown ones deserve to stay unknown, and obviously some works are both more important and more rewarding than others (as is true with any composer), but having everything in one place, or in this case one series, enables those of us interested in Prokofiev’s work to make up our own minds about what's important and what's not.
Completeness would be for naught if the quality of the performances was mediocre or worse, but not to worry. This entire series was well regarded way back in the 1970’s when it came out on the original Vox Box LPs, and there's no reason to argue with that assessment today. Sandor had a superb and well-deserved reputation as an interpreter of modern composers, especially Bartok, with whom he studied, and Prokofiev. The readings here are both sympathetic and musical; Sandor is never fazed by the technical demands that might sometimes derail a less competent player, and his well-judged playing brings these sometimes difficult pieces to life.
The obvious comparisons for of these pieces are recordings by the Russian master, Sviatoslav Richter. In a very rough comparison, I would characterize Sandor’s playing as smoother with a slightly more delicate touch. Please understand that I use the term “delicate” on in a comparative sense: for instance, in the fourth sonata, “delicate” is the last word that would come to mind! Richter, on the other hand, often plays more aggressively, really pounding the keyboard at times – and granted, Prokofiev's music often responds well to pounding. No doubt there are some works for which Richter's recordings will be the generally preferable ones, but the difficulty is in figuring out which works those are.
Richter's recordings, and not just those of Prokofiev’s music, have been released and re-released and re-re-released in multiple versions on multiple labels over the last several decades, and the quality of those recordings varies tremendously. For example, I stumbled upon what must have been an old Melodiya recording of the sixth sonata which assaulted my ears with truly wretched mono sound. On the other hand, at least some of the tracks on the “Richter the Master" collection on Deca were pretty decent indeed. Those who are particularly interested in Prokofiev’s piano works and want to explore different versions likely would be willing to plow through all the alternatives. However, those of us who simply want to hear excellent performances of this music with excellent sonics can be confident in staying with the Vox series.
Speaking of sonics, the recording of the piano is very good indeed, especially considering the age. The piano is close miced, which contributes to a sense of clarity that fits music well. The stereo image is a little wide and perhaps a little more diffuse than the best, and the lowest registers of the piano don't have quite as much weight as the best of contemporary digital recordings, but overall the sound is miles above average and you won’t notice these minor issues as you focus on the music.
In summary, if you are at all curious about Prokofiev’s piano works, any volume from this series would be a good starting point. My advice is to, as they say, collect all five and start working your leisurely way through some fascinating music.
