L'apogée de la science française: Miroirs

[hopefullytrusting]

I capped the survey at fifty.

[Hobby]

I'm intrigued by the audiofonic recording which appears to be by ravel as pianist - is anyone familiar with this and its provenance?

[Todd]

Harrumph.

[Todd]

Mr Frenchie French, Bertrand Chamayou, he of Liszt Transcendental Studies that make even the hottest pianistic properties of the day seem amateurish, comes next.  Noctuelles is swift, pristinely executed, and if not as colorful as Simon (a tall order), his dynamic control may be even finer.  And loud or soft, he can spin out notes at Ludicrous Speed, I tell you what.  It's more purely pianistic than evocative, but that's don't matter even a quarter of whit.  Oiseaux tristes starts oh so light and bright, with Bert holding back, before he doesn't.  But whether going slow or fast, his control astounds, and he extracts bright pastel colors in his playing.  A brisk breeze blows upon the surface of the rippling waves at the start of Une barque sur l'océan, Things thicken up as the more tumultuous music arrives, and then Bert cruises along the waves, as if captaining a Larry Ellison owned catamaran.  Alborada del gracioso is an amped up, almost to the point of vaudevillian caricature, with almost inhumanly insistent rhythm and repeated notes where the pianist seems to be toying with the instrument.  La vallée des cloches breathes in the opening.  Then Bert speeds up, bringing uncanny steadiness to the left hand playing, before bringing the section to a slow end, with a pregnant pause.  Then things go from great to freakin' awesome.  Slow, steady, solemn, supremely refined, with tolling left hand notes and almost medieval religiosity to the playing, the music calms the mind.  Tier S?  Oh, yes. 

[Todd]

Herbert Schuch's debut recording remains one of the greatest debuts ever, and revisiting this reminds the listener that the dude's a beast.  Like Tharaud, Schuch sounds like he starts Noctuelles midphrase, and then he launches into dizzyingly fast, precisely articulated playing that pulses with energy.  It may not flit, but it darts about with precision.  Schuch then proceeds to sound even more compelling when he slows down, expertly uses pauses, and delivers finely calibrated dynamics  Then he returns to playing so fast and so precise that no one can surpass it.  Oiseaux tristes starts slow, though Schuch opts not to play as quietly as some others, instead offering dynamic contrasts where everything has a perfect relationship with everything else.  That ought not to be taken that he doesn't play quietly – he does – but rather when he ramps up later, it makes better overall sense.  The slow playing again finds Schuch somehow sounding more compelling.  His ability to alter touch at speed is a marvel to behold.  Une barque sur l'océan undulates and flows, with more fine tonal variegation, and then Schuch builds up to towering, quasi-orchestral playing, before moving back to mists of music swirling about the listener's ears.  Alborada del gracioso mixes snappy rhythm, mind-boggling dynamic control, and swell accenting.  The repeated notes beguile, and the rhythmic control in slower passages compels at least as much as in the faster passages.  La vallée des cloches, in Schuch's second best recording of that movement, starts off quick, with more sumptuous, tiered dynamics, slows to a hushed crawl, and the transitions to serene, beautiful playing, with some notes held just so, and others pushed just the tiniest of smidges.  He delivers transcendent playing unsurpassed in this group of recordings.  Unsurpassed and unsurpassable S tier.

[Todd]

Interwebs tiering: