L'apogée de la science française: Miroirs

[Todd]

In this Ravel anniversary year, it only made sense to bring rigueur scientifique to the composer's greatest work for solo piano.  (Its superiority to Gaspard was determined scientifically, as well, so this is an objective statement of fact.)  Five splendid, distinctive pieces, each presenting its own performance challenges and listening delights finds the composer at his most varied in what is still a fairly compact work.  So much color, so much stylistic variance, so much enjoyment is to be had. 




There is no better way, objectively speaking, than to start off the survey with one of today's technically flawless pianists just to sort of level set ivory tickling expectations.  Zlata Chochieva is just such a pianist.  In Noctuelles, Chochieva flits along almost ridiculously quickly and easily to start before backing off and musing a bit, before in turn flitting about again.  Oiseaux tristes in contrast is slow and controlled and precise, with dynamic gradations so precise one can measure them in partial decibels if the playback level is set to a C-weighted 85 dB average.  The at times s l o w tempo hits the spot, too.  Une barque sur l'océan is light and brisk, with swells and torrents of notes dashed off with ridiculous ease.  Alborada del gracioso is dispatched at nearly breakneck speed, with flawless control, and some dynamic shifts and tempo shifts that almost sound inhuman rather than superhuman.  It bounces and rollicks.  La vallée des cloches, while technically without fault, does come off as surface only note perfection, so there's the weakness.  A tier.

[Todd]

Kevin Kenner has never really received love from major labels, which is a pity, because his recordings are all supremely fine.  Here, in a more resonant recording, Kenner starts off creating a more spacious Noctuelles, and one that glides along.  Oiseaux tristes is slow, almost hypnotic to start, with the quietest playing fading to near silence.  Une barque sur l'océan undulates with fine legato playing, with left hand rumbles hinting at the power of the waves discreetly then openly.  Alborada del gracioso is quick, agile, and spicy.  La vallée des cloches, with glorious, rich harmonies, comes off as serious and nearly heavy, with hints of actual emotion in its delivery, something not always true with Ravel's music.  Yep, good stuff.  A tier.

[Todd]

Florida Man Tzimon Barto got the nod next to get an obviously idiosyncratic and perhaps even perverse take out of the way early.  Barto is, generally speaking, a love him or hate him pianist, with most people hating him.  Not me, no sir.  But then, I come to every one of his recordings knowing what he's about.  And that's iconoclastic, provocative interpretations delivered with a high degree of technical polish.  Noctuelles starts off fast and unstable, with the tempi hectically variable, as if moths munched some Tallahassee Wheaties (ie, meth pebbles).  Then they crash, munch more, and aimlessly flit about again.  All the while, Barto plays with pristine tonal and dynamic control.  Oiseaux tristes sounds like one and then several birds who stumbled upon some bath salts, and damned if Barto doesn't make some of the left hand playing sound like an approximation of an out of tune, rotting banjo.  Une barque sur l'océan has more tempo and rhythmic instability, and conjures mental imagery of a person a half rack in sailing his thirty foot fishing boat in a mild storm in the Gulf of America.  Alborada del gracioso staggers around like a thoroughly soused gringo at the Calle Ocho Festival.  The slow La vallée des cloches starts off with barely there pianissimo playing and then kind of just crawls along, with some playing just barely holding the line.  It drones and moans.  Many times throughout the recording the listener is left to think "what the fuhhhhh?"  This is the quantum particle of Miroirs recordings, belonging in the S and D tiers simultaneously.  Barto's execution is well-nigh flawless, but his musical vision is blurred to the equivalent of 3/20.  His take sounds entirely unlike every other recording in the survey, and purposely so.

[Todd]

As a palette cleanser of sorts, Bobby C is a perfect follow-up to Mr Smith.  Noctuelles rushes forward, with clean fingerwork and fine, if constrained dynamics, which is definitely partly due to the now ancient recording.  There's a certain unsentimental coolness to the playing.  The opening of Oiseaux tristes, which echoes Le Gibet, reinforces that impression, and then Casadesus, with unsmiling refinement, plays the notes, and only the notes for the rest of the piece.  Une barque sur l'océan is quick, at times imposing in the forte playing, and relentlessly forward moving.  Alborada del gracioso is all forward motion without excess syncopation, though some might want more.  La vallée des cloches does a decent job of evoking bells but does a fantastic job of sounding like top notch piano playing.  Casadesus' take is unsentimental, clear, and bracingly direct.  That style works fantastically well with Ravel, and this recording remains one of the best, as does the complete set.  S tier.

[Mandryka]

Florida Man Tzimon Barto got the nod next to get an obviously idiosyncratic and perhaps even perverse take out of the way early.  Barto is, generally speaking, a love him or hate him pianist, with most people hating him.  Not me, no sir.  But then, I come to every one of his recordings knowing what he's about.  And that's iconoclastic, provocative interpretations delivered with a high degree of technical polish.  Noctuelles starts off fast and unstable, with the tempi hectically variable, as if moths munched some Tallahassee Wheaties (ie, meth pebbles).  Then they crash, munch more, and aimlessly flit about again.  All the while, Barto plays with pristine tonal and dynamic control.  Oiseaux tristes sounds like one and then several birds who stumbled upon some bath salts, and damned if Barto doesn't make some of the left hand playing sound like an approximation of an out of tune, rotting banjo.  Une barque sur l'océan has more tempo and rhythmic instability, and conjures mental imagery of a person a half rack in sailing his thirty foot fishing boat in a mild storm in the Gulf of America.  Alborada del gracioso staggers around like a thoroughly soused gringo at the Calle Ocho Festival.  The slow La vallée des cloches starts off with barely there pianissimo playing and then kind of just crawls along, with some playing just barely holding the line.  It drones and moans.  Many times throughout the recording the listener is left to think "what the fuhhhhh?"  This is the quantum particle of Miroirs recordings, belonging in the S and D tiers simultaneously.  Barto's execution is well-nigh flawless, but his musical vision is blurred to the equivalent of 3/20.  His take sounds entirely unlike every other recording in the survey, and purposely so.

I like the Ravel, I like the tone he makes. I like coke too.

[Brian]

Oh wow, it's been 366 days since I listened to any Robert Casadesus, and that was his composition not playing (Symphony No. 5). Now I have a big box set to pull out this weekend!

[Todd]

Oh wow, it's been 366 days since I listened to any Robert Casadesus, and that was his composition not playing (Symphony No. 5). Now I have a big box set to pull out this weekend!

Might I suggest closing your eyes and blindly grabbing a disc.  It is impossible to go wrong with Mr Casadesus.

[Todd]

I like coke too.

This reminds me of a fun internet game.  Go to google, type in "Florida Man <birth month> <birth day>" (ie, exclude the year) and see what the first result says.  Mine says: "I'm not going to lie, it's cocaine."

[Brian]

This reminds me of a fun internet game.  Go to google, type in "Florida Man <birth month> <birth day>" (ie, exclude the year) and see what the first result says.  Mine says: "I'm not going to lie, it's cocaine."

"Florida Man wearing Batman pajamas thwarts burglary at neighbor's house"

[Mandryka]

Florida man arrested after trying to cross Atlantic in hamster wheel vessel

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-us-canada-66733230

[Todd]

Ragna Schirmer is one of the great pianists before the public today, but that does not always ensure great recordings.  One can hear it in Noctuelles.  Make no mistake, Schirmer's digital dexterity impresses, with nary a note out of place.  Rhythm is fine, dynamics better, and control is absolute, but the piece doesn't feel right.  Clinical Ravel is fine, but this sounds unidiomatic even when that shouldn't be a thing.  Oiseaux tristes sounds technically secure but too austere, while the sheen of perfection in Une barque sur l'océan likewise evokes not a whole lot of anything.  Alborada del gracioso has nice syncopation, but it sounds generic, and not Spanish in the least.  The repeated notes, they sound spiffy.  La vallée des cloches has the too austere by half feel thing going on.  So, very well played, but not so great.  C tier.

[Todd]

When it comes to sleek, supremely well played Ravel, no one really surpasses Hinrich Alpers when it comes to hitting the notes.  His bright, light, flowing open to Noctuelles captivates, and his smooth rubato and ability to switch up moods, ever so subtly, really stands out.  The music just pours out, almost perfumed yet hazy, yet also clearly executed.  Oiseaux tristes evokes Le Gibet to open, but with a tenderness, a gentleness as he lets notes and phrases taper away.  The way he tiers dynamics, with some bright, almost brittle right hand playing rising above the accompaniment, oh my, yes.  The sea starts calm and shimmering in Une barque sur l'océan, but the winds and the waves pick up, the music swells and undulates, the right hand playing tickles the ears, and the whole thing just flows so well.  The rhythmic snap and energy and quicksilver dynamic contrasts of Alborada del gracioso hit the spot.  The slower playing approximates guitar playing and has a dancy and comic tinge to it.  Now, La vallée des cloches starts way quicker than normal, making it sound slighter than normal, though individual tolling notes stick out to great effect.  After Alpers slows down, the music calms, the harmonies beguile, the mood controls the listener's every thought.  Stupendous.  S tier.

[Todd]

Josefa Schmidt's recording is presented in the most annoying way possible for survey purposes, with the different tracks presented in jumbled order mixed with pieces by four other composers.  That requires either programming a playlist or using the track number keys.  Sheesh, that's hard.  So is the recorded sound.  Noctuelles is clear, quick, almost jittery.  These are some aggressive moths.  Schmidt's playing is very modern sounding, with an almost steely mien, though that's more down to the recorded sound.  There's no doubting her digital dexterity.  The opening to Oiseaux tristes implies that Schmidt could deliver a stone cold Le Gibet, and the slower playing eases up on the metallic impact, and in its place in cool austerity and proto-modern droning.  (Unsurprisingly, her Crumb on the same disc is pretty nifty.)  Une barque sur l'océan is a proper swirl of notes throughout.  Alborada del gracioso starts off in exaggerated, clunky fashion.  She speeds up a bit, and then in the slower music she slows things way down, and then returns to a not particularly fast take, though one infused with superb repeated notes and sharp glissandi.  It's a proper scherzo.  La vallée des cloches starts slow, but then morphs into a tense take, and one filled with different simultaneous dynamic levels.  Coolness pervades.  Had this been recorded up to modern snuff, she might be a level higher.  B tier.

[Mandryka]

When it comes to sleek, supremely well played Ravel, no one really surpasses Hinrich Alpers when it comes to hitting the notes.  His bright, light, flowing open to Noctuelles captivates, and his smooth rubato and ability to switch up moods, ever so subtly, really stands out.  The music just pours out, almost perfumed yet hazy, yet also clearly executed.  Oiseaux tristes evokes Le Gibet to open, but with a tenderness, a gentleness as he lets notes and phrases taper away.  The way he tiers dynamics, with some bright, almost brittle right hand playing rising above the accompaniment, oh my, yes.  The sea starts calm and shimmering in Une barque sur l'océan, but the winds and the waves pick up, the music swells and undulates, the right hand playing tickles the ears, and the whole thing just flows so well.  The rhythmic snap and energy and quicksilver dynamic contrasts of Alborada del gracioso hit the spot.  The slower playing approximates guitar playing and has a dancy and comic tinge to it.  Now, La vallée des cloches starts way quicker than normal, making it sound slighter than normal, though individual tolling notes stick out to great effect.  After Alpers slows down, the music calms, the harmonies beguile, the mood controls the listener's every thought.  Stupendous.  S tier.

Museum Quality? It's just tht I thought his Schumann op 11 sonata was, a bit.

[Todd]

Museum Quality?

No.

[Todd]

Alexei Volodin is another modern pianist of seemingly limitless technical ability.  In Noctuelles, that manifests itself in a very Ondiney sound and almost cartoonish zippiness, though his control is never in doubt.  His ability to conjure a wide color palette at speed impresses.  Oiseaux tristes offers a maximum contrast in terms of tempo, and Volodin imbues it with an almost Valses nobles et sentimentales soundworld to open, with bright, crisp bird calls coming only later.  Une barque sur l'océan returns to fast playing right from the start, in something of a legato infused haze.  In the most tumultuous passage, he reminds the listener more of Debussy and his playing is more about overt virtuosity than anything else.  Alborada del gracioso is over-the-top fast, pushed to the point that it morphs into a garish showpiece.  La vallée des cloches is slower, though fast in the context of the survey, and Volodin cranks out the playing with near organ-like power in places.  Overall, this recording offers some awesome virtuosity but much less overall satisfaction than other takes.  D tier

[Todd]

Jean-Yves Thibaudet starts Noctuelles off with fast, flitting, ethereal playing that's as virtuosic and technically adept as any, and while one hears it and appreciates it, the real magic comes in the fact that Thibaudet somehow doesn't make his playing about his playing.  The playing is simultaneously abstract and programmatic.  Oiseaux tristes is slower, but not slow, and rather dreamy, almost, dare I write it, impressionistic, even though Ravel is not an impressionistic composer.  That same feel pervades Une barque sur l'océan, which quickly but gently swirls to start, with Thibaudet dashing off the notes, and then building up to satisfying forte playing while effortlessly controlling dynamic undulations.  Alborada del gracioso is light and snappy, with subtle and sublime right hand accenting and killer repeated notes.  La vallée des cloches keeps the light, bright sound Thibaudet favors, and the speed and steadiness of the accompaniment is really quite something.  He then slows up and plays in solemn, beautiful fashion, and the tolling left hand notes around five minutes are nearly hypnotic.  Great Ravel playing, this.  S tier.