L'apogée de la science française: Miroirs

[Todd]

Queffélec's second recording is interpretively very similar, and the sound is more resonant.  But dynamics remain comparatively limited, though they are improved.  It definitely is more enjoyable overall, but here's a case where a proper live recording, if one is floating around out there, might show the pianist in a better light.  C tier.

[Todd]

Georges Pludermacher plays a flitting, rhythmically unstable but controlled opening to Noctuelles, and then backs off, but less than some others, and keeps a slightly off-kilter pulse.  Oiseaux tristes sounds almost impossibly dry, with shortened note timings and abrupt stops, and then some bold playing in the more robust music.  Pludermacher does like mixing things up.  Une barque sur l'océan swirls about with nice accents tossed into open, and Pudermacher builds up some real power before quickly falling back to let the notes swirl.  The close, live recording really pays dividend every time Pludermacher turns up the volume.  Alborada del gracioso bounces along with nifty rhythm, sweet sforzandi, and sweet repeated notes.  Perhaps here the close recording results in some hard sounding playing, but that's OK.  La vallée des cloches is slower, solemn, with nice tolling notes and some more abrupt stops, and a quick build up to a slow coda.  (I can't remember if Pludermacher uses his custom, four pedal Steinway for this set, which allows for extra tomfoolery.)  While he takes some liberties here, the results are fine.  A tier.

[Todd]

Seong-Jin Cho starts off with a flitting, varying Noctuelles, and he plays with tonal finesse and the subtlest of subtle dynamic gradations everywhere, tapering off to near silence and also generating enough strength where needed.  His constant tinkering without outsize gestures is its own form a supervirtuosity, drawing attention to the playing, but 'tis nice playing.  Oiseaux tristes opens with playing that goes from gentle to ridiculously gentle, all while allowing one to hear everything.  He slowly builds up to some reasonably strong playing, but it's in the gentle and beautiful playing in the middle where Cho sounds most distinctive.  He finds shades of shades of color and dynamics.  It's perhaps too fussy, but man does he coax out a sound to savor.  Une barque sur l'océan opens with swift, colorful, but subdued playing that almost sounds non-credible.  He thwacks out some forte playing with ample power, showing it's all just ivory mastery.  It's a wash of sound and color.  Alborada del gracioso has ample rhythmic boogie, but here Cho often plays at a more subdued level in the non-boogying music and with such a rounded tone overall that the x-ray playing and almost sweet sounding right hand playing almost become too much of a good thing.  Almost.  La vallée des cloches see Cho bringing some whisper quiet playing to the open, then a steady but soft accompaniment under some soft edged right hand notes.  He then slows way down for a while, generating a dreamy yet clear soundworld that becomes meditative the longer it goes on.  A tier.

[Todd]

Might as well go with two consecutive Chopin Competition winners back-to-back.  Canuckian Bruce Liu dazzles right out of the gate in Noctuelles, with supreme agility, dynamic control, and playing that sounds not so much flitting as dashed off in an even more refined Earl Wild style, meaning one of absolute control.  Some of his voicing is unique, bringing out tiny details, one note at a time.  Oiseaux tristes starts slow, with gentle diminuendo going from pianissimo to more pianissimo, then Liu takes his time before seamlessly revving and cranking things up in the most refined way.  It's hard to say Liu evokes anything; rather, he offers rarified abstraction of the most refined type.  That same sense pervades the gliding opening of Une barque sur l'océan, which then proceeds to move into more powerful playing effortlessly.  It doesn't offer the last word in dynamic contrast, but within the perfectly calibrated boundaries, it is without technical flaw.  Alborada del gracioso is swift, rhythmically sure, brimming with color, and, oh yes, those repeated notes sound swell.  And those left hand notes, they are good stuff.  La vallée des cloches starts off quick, with some hefty left hand tolling notes punctuating the upper register playing, then Liu slows down, and the music takes on a dark-hued, solemn feel.  Good stuff.  A tier.

[Todd]

Michelangelo Carbonara takes notably longer than most pianists in Noctuelles, and as is his wont, he eschews creating even the hint of an unlovely tone.  As a result, energy and flittiness are AWOL, but a relaxed feel and beauty are copious.  Oiseaux tristes starts so quietly, with the pianist barely eking out pppp playing that one sort ends up wallowing in the lackadaisical beauty.  Even the bright bird calls sound like somewhat enervated chirps.  This reads as a criticism, but it's really not.  It's terribly atmospheric and unabashedly impressionistic.  Une barque sur l'océan evokes ripples on a lake rather than the sea, and Carbonara makes even Cho's playing sound rather rough and harsh. Wide dynamic range is entirely absent here, too.  Alborada del gracioso has a bit of pep, in the context of Carbonara's playing, but it comes off as quintessentially impressionistic.  La vallée des cloches just sort of floats along, with the bell tolls too gentle by half, but the beauty is undeniable.  This one is somewhat difficult to assess.  Under no circumstances can this be considered a great recording, but as an alternative take, one emphasizing almost overwhelming beauty and dreaminess above all, it has its merits.  B tier.  But for many or most people, this would be D tier. 

[Todd]

Ol' moanin' Fazil Say has, from time to time (as in every recording), offered highly individual, even idiosyncratic interpretations.  One needn't wait more than a few seconds to hear that here.  Noctuelles starts as a chaotic wash of notes, with unstable tempi – to excellent effect, mind – and then he slows up to more standard playing.  All the while, his tone appeals.  His playing sometimes sounds dark, and it's never overwrought, but it also has a quasi-improvisational aspect, like Say is recomposing on the spot.  Hushed playing opens Oiseaux tristes, and Say mixes up the playing and the styles.  The quick right hand arpeggios are swift and subdued, the overall tenor of the piece subdued and more introspective that extroverted.  Une barque sur l'océan starts with gentle right hand playing, more an impressionistic swirl, and he adds beefy but cloudy left hand playing.  The swells satisfy, even if they don't offer maximum scale, and his vocalizing adds a dash of color or a distraction to taste.  Alborada del gracioso is dispatched swiftly, with spry rhythm and nifty dynamic switch ups.  It sounds rushed and nearly chaotic or reckless, in the best way.  La vallée des cloches starts slow, but then promptly shifts to Ritalin addled speediness for a bit, before moving back to slower, more contemplative playing, before wrapping up in zippy fashion with a blunt, instant end.  This is most definitely an idiosyncratic take, and a mighty fine one.  A tier.

[Todd]

Beatrice Rana offers a return to more standard playing, and she starts off with a Noctuelles that displays control and speed as good as any, creating nicely flitting playing delivered with absolute control.  Dynamic control is tip top, and though one hears some pedaling, that only serves to underscore her precise control of every aspect of playing.  The fastest playing goes right to the edge of sounding rushed, which is fine.  Oiseaux tristes starts off with pianissimo playing of Yamane and Volodos quietude and suppleness, and then moves back and forth between this softer style and more vigorous playing well-nigh flawlessly.  Une barque sur l'océan likewise starts off quietly, and Rana plays quietly at speed, which is much rarer than fast 'n' loud.  As to loud, well, Rana makes the swells thunder, so she's got that base covered, too.  (Seriously, her pianissimo playing is so insanely nuanced and quiet that, as with some Volodos recordings, one almost wonders if studio trickery aids in delivery.)  Alborada del gracioso bops and darts, explodes and recedes, and is basically a ball of musical energy start to finish.  La vallée des cloches has a nice, slow overall tempo, with some heavy duty tolling bells and enchanting solemnity.  In terms of sheer pianistic display, this recording cannot be surpassed, though in terms of other qualities some others offer a smidge more.  Still, S tier. 

[Todd]

Mikhail Rudy starts off Noctuelles with admirable clarity, and is as direct and close to a non-interpreter as possible to this point.  It's just clean playing.  Oiseaux tristes offers more of the same, as do all of the other movements.  There's certainly no faulting Rudy's playing as playing, it's just that he doesn't really bring much, if any, character to the music.  D tier.

[Todd]

Triple double Hannes Minnaar, he of nimble fingers and lithe playing, starts with a quick, bright, clean Noctuelles that evokes little and comes close to rushing through to the end.  To be sure, he controls dynamics nicely and navigates the playing well.  Oiseaux tristes starts quick, slows down nicely, and in a more refined manner than Rudy, evokes not much.  Some of the bird calls are bright and quick, but that's it.  Une barque sur l'océan starts off with a relaxedish tempo and very lithe sound, though Minnaar does build up some decent weight in the most tumultuous playing.  Alborada del gracioso has ample rhythmic swagger and a feel of near effortlessness to it.  La vallée des cloches is slow, solemn, rich, with some really appealing tone throughout the range, and it's both austere and direct.  Nary a whiff of sentiment is to be heard.  It's the strongest piece in the work.  C tier.

[Todd]

Artur Pizarro, recorded in a large, resonant space, or with reverb added, starts with a Noctuelles that is quick but not flitting, though the trade-off is some nice accenting.  The recording technique allows for fulsome dynamics, and Pizarro's left hand playing adds some oomph.  Oiseaux tristes starts slow, and the quiet playing, aided a bit by the sound, sounds kind of dreamy and abstract, and Pizarro takes his time with the rest of the movement.  He plays brightly and strongly where needed, but it takes on a sort of laid back feel as it progresses.  Une barque sur l'océan sounds very Jeux d'eauy vibe at the outset, and is intimate in scale, and while Pizarro scales up nicely, it never truly deviates from the opening soundworld.  Alborada del gracioso is not so fast, but the rhythmic component takes on a vaguely Iberian feel, which makes sense given the pianist's country of origin.  It also finds Pizarro letting loose in terms of dynamics.  While the recording technique accentuates the louder playing, it also sounds a bit blurred.  La vallée des cloches maintains a semblance of the larger scale, and it sounds deadly serious and solemn, with some nice tolling notes.  B tier.

[Todd]

Jung-Ja Kim starts with a slightly broad tempo Noctuelles where the dynamic gradations withing a bounded range are the main appeal, and the full recorded sound takes away most of the edges.  It's not particularly evocative of anything, it's just pleasant.  Oiseaux tristes likewise sounds full and warm and pleasant.  Kim's warm sound pays more dividends in Une barque sur l'océan, where the comparatively bass rich sound lays the foundation for some nifty swells, and Kim brings some nice variety to the upper register playing.  Alborada del gracioso has nice enough rhythm, but the pace is slower than normal to open.  That gives Kim the chance to play the second section more briskly to good effect.  La vallée des cloches starts off gently, with a steady rhythm and some nice, if understated tolling bells.  Overall, pleasant.  C tier.

[Todd]

It's been a minute since I last listened to one of his recordings, so it was time to hear Michael Endres, he of serious and studious and impeccable music making.  He brings those traits to this recording.  Noctuelles is swift but not rushed, sublimely clear, bright and rhythmically solid and entirely focused.  No flitting, no meandering, just superb execution in a studious take.  Oiseaux tristes opens quietly, with the first note quiet, the second a mere whisper.  Moreso than with other recordings, it almost feels like the dynamic and tempo relationships here are executed with perfect mathematical precision, yet the playing sounds vital and immediate.  Neat trick.  Une barque sur l'océan starts swift and precise, and he keeps things on an even keel, as it were, until the big ol' swells and undulations arrive, and he the dispatches those with perfectly calibrated everything.  Alborada del gracioso has impeccable, metronomically exact rhythm with fine dynamics, extraordinary but not showy repeated notes, and a just so vibe.  La vallée des cloches starts quickly, then after about a minute switches to slow, solemn, atmospheric playing punctuated by nice tolling bells.  There is no eccentricity, no outsize gestures, no tomfoolery of any sort to be heard in this proper, by the book recording, yet Endres still manages to sound individual.  A tier.  (Fingers crossed that he has secretly been toiling away at an LvB cycle for 2027 and ends up being the first pianist to deliver first class LvB, Mozart, and Schubert.) 

[Todd]

Marcelle Meyer starts with a Noctuelles that sounds rushed to the point that the notes sometimes just seem bunched together, with little discernible rhythmic pulse.  The fingerwork is good, but it just sounds rushed.  Oiseaux tristes starts slow, has clear fingerwork, but Meyer's rhythm again seems off, or even nonexistent, almost like a sight reading recording.  The quiet, slow playing does sound nicely atmospheric, though.  That same felling pervades Une barque sur l'océan, though Meyer does play with nice enough dynamic range.  Alborada del gracioso fortunately has pretty good rhythmic snap and energy, which only shows that Meyer opted to play the first couple of pieces the way she did for a reason or reasons.  It does sound a bit rushed in places, though.  La vallée des cloches starts quickly, and has better dynamic contrasts than some later recordings, and then it turns slow and solemn, but again it just doesn't jell.  D tier.

[Todd]

Stewart Goodyear belongs to that cadre of modern keyboard wizards who know no limitations, and it shows.  In Noctuelles, he zips along with gobsmacking speed and accuracy.  Perhaps lightness and flitting about goes missing, but with trills like his, in don't matter none.  And the dynamic control is just ridiculous.  Oiseaux tristes starts slow, with gentle playing and perfect pauses, and then maintains an overall sense of calm, relatively speaking.  In Une barque sur l'océan, Goodyear lays down a clear and steady though variable accompaniment, adds some spice with accents, and then only gradually builds up the power, with the left hand leading the way.  The trills once again make the listener smile.  Alborada del gracioso is ridiculously quick and clear, with a bopping rhythm, and repeated notes to equal anyone's.  La vallée des cloches starts slow and subdued, picks up speed with nicely terraced dynamics, and then moves into slow, solemn, atmospheric playing through to the end.  In terms of overt and absolute virtuosic display, Goodyear is right up there with Rana, though he is not quite as individual and unique.  A tier.

[Todd]

François Dumont starts off with bright, colorful playing in Noctuelles, though the playing is (purposely) not as clean and pointed as some others.  It goes for hints of atmosphere.  Oiseaux tristes retains the brightness, but starts slow and subdued, and it takes a good while before Dumont speeds up, and then he does so only briefly.  It's all about the atmosphere.  Une barque sur l'océan is swift and slight and colorful to open.  Only after the first batch of trills, with Dumont offering some especially piquant right had playing, does he really rev up, to good effect, and his legato keeps the music undulating along.  Alborada del gracioso has ample pep and drive, and those upper registers continue to tickle the ear.  La vallée des cloches starts off quick and dreamy, with a legato haze, and then it transitions to almost hypnotic playing.  A tier.