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.
