La ciencia llega a España: Goyescas

[Todd]

#15

Lisztian pedagogical line pianist Artur Pizarro very often favors slow tempi and soft-edged playing filled with subtle color and nuance and teeny, tiny dynamic gradations, and so it goes here.  One can hear it in the opening bars, which sound like nothing other than a gentle Barcarolle to start.  The frequent use of halting rhythms breaks up the flow in Los requiebros, yet the tiered dynamics and unique voicings, and the rounded piano tone (partly or largely due to the Blüthner used), nonetheless satisfy.  The same beautiful, lyricism-focused playing permeates Coloquio en la reja.  Here, though, he peppers his playing with some beefy forte playing, though he maintains his anti-virtuosic vibe.  He turns up the wick and zips through the Fandango, then settles back into notably slower than average playing right through to the end.  Quejas, o La Maja y el ruiseñor sounds almost ridiculously beautiful, to the point that William Youn's eyebrows might be raised – in agreement.  Some of the trills veer into late LvB territory.  The entire second book blends the slower than normal, tonally lustrous, languid style with some punchy, potent playing into a musical elixir of no little tastiness. 

[Todd]

#14

Alicia de Larrocha's third shot at the work comes off somewhat lighter, more playful, and, well, sunnier in Los requiebros when compared to the other three recordings.  Coloquio en la reja moves in the gentler, less contrasty style of the RCA recording, and there's a lot of that here.  While the Fandango and Quejas, o La Maja y el ruiseñor come off splendidly, the slightly softer overall approach married to Decca's mid-70s imperfect piano sound means that El Amor y la Muerte doesn't have the same wallop that the Hispavox recording does.  (More on that later.)  The Epilogue has a sort of sly feel to it in the opening, with Larrocha slinking across the lower registers, in particular.   So, very nice, but not her best effort.

[Todd]

#13

Viviana Lasaracina's recording is the slowest overall take in this survey, taking nearly sixty-three minutes to complete.  One hears what she's all about in Los requiebros, where she plays the slower music very slowly in many places, taking her time, playing gently, and bringing the music to a pause in many places, allowing the listener to savor the silence.  She maintains the musical line and her rhythmic control is excellent, even when playing slow.  To be sure, she plays faster music quickly, with heft and color.  She does not bring the same flexibility and (perhaps) idiomatic rhythmic flair that the very best versions do.  She does bring a sense of irresistible languidness to Coloquio en la reja, which comes in at fourteen minutes.  It meanders, it wanders, it lazily unfolds.    The Fandango remains slow in comparative terms, but has the requisite verve, while Quejas, o La Maja y el ruiseñor mixes leisureliness and energy nicely.  El Amor y la Muerte lasts a quarter of an hour, and many passages are slow burns, demonstrate subdued passion, and when she does let loose, it's nice, but not as potent or weighty as other versions.  It does, however, blend perfectly with her conception.  She closes out with a sometimes boisterous Epilogue.  Overall, this recording falls squarely into the slow interpretation camp, where Ms Lasaracina is joined by pianists like Rajna, Luisada, Paik, and Perianes.  Not everyone will dig slow takes.  I kinda do, and not a little in some cases.

[Dry Brett Kavanaugh]

A long duration of performance doesn't equate to a slow performance, especially for Teresa Escandon.

[Todd]

#12

Pianist, teacher, star of MGM musicals with her older brother José Iturbi, Dame Amparo Iturbi's version, laid down in the mid-50s, is the swiftest version of the ones under consideration in this survey at just a smidge under forty-six-and-a-half minutes.  Adjusting to the limitations of the recorded sound is easy enough, with some overload marring the loudest passages.  The playing has a remarkably unburdened feel to it, by which is meant that it sounds as though Iturbi simply plays the notes, quickly, without excess rubato or pedaling or anything else.  The extra-speediness in the faster passages allows her to play some of the slower passages at a still quick clip, but the tempo contrasts work well.  At times, her swift directness pays dividends, as in Conversation at the Window, which sounds like chipper flirting with whimsy tossed in.  The Fandango has spice 'n' zing, with accenting and rhythmic snap that really satisfies.  While a couple rough notes appear, Iturbi delivers the passionate goods in El Amor y la Muerte, where surely romanticism ought to rule.  Throw in a zippy El Pelele, and the proto-Larrocha puts in a real nice disc.

[Todd]

#11

Spanish pedagogue Albert Attenelle starts off with a leisurely Los requiebros, meandering his way through, in a manner suggesting that he's strolling along with a gal pal, taking in the aroma of roses, and gently saying just the sweetest things, up until the vigorous coda.  He marries digital clarity with smooth delivery most adroitly.  Leisureliness returns with the open of Coloquio en la reja, but that clean yet smooth delivery remains.  The Fandango is pushed forward with some unique syncopation in places, and sounds crisply guitarish.  El Amor y la Muerte sounds pointed and passionate, but it's a bit leaner than some other versions.  Observation not critique.  The Epilogue has more distinctive rhythmic playing and closes out a strong version.  All of Attenelle's Spanish piano music recordings hit the spot.

[Todd]

#10

Joaquín Achúcarro's 1980 analog recording carries the Spanish curse of sub-par sound married to extremely fine interpretation.  Alicia de Larrocha's Hispavox recording also succumbs to that curse (more on that later).  Achúcarro's playing, though, sounds thoroughly idiomatic beginning to end.  Once can imagine him showing up late to a recital at a repurposed church, plopping down on a stool, taking his time setting up, and then just launching into this.  The overall timing is near dead-on average, but this is a recording where timings hide much more than they reveal.  Achúcarro meanders almost listlessly (and definitely Lisztlessly) through large swathes of the opening two movements, not only stopping to smell the roses, but also to sit and sip on a café cortado.  He plinks out limpid yet smooth high register playing, adding dashes of color, beefs up in the lower registers without weighing anything down, and sort of just oozes the music through his fingers.  Rubato and rhythm sounds spot on.  And yet for all this, when he needs to play fast, he just speeds up, plays as cleanly as one could wish for, and perfectly maintains the flow.  After a suitably spunky Fandango, Achúcarro ends Book I and starts Book II with just supremely fine takes on Quejas, o La Maja y el ruiseñor and El Amor y la Muerte, respectively.  (And that final chord of Muerte, woo, doggy!)  A fine Epilogue closes out an extremely fine version.  Except for the recorded sound.

[Dry Brett Kavanaugh]

#26

Thomas Rajna's take is the second slowest in the survey, and start to finish there's a unique feel of leisurely tension.  He doesn't offer the same degree of free-wheeling rubato and rhythmic changeups found in better versions, but he offers some unique clarity of voices, where one can hear, with striking ease, some accompaniment figurations underlying the melodies.  Rajna's take is also less colorful than many versions, but there's stark beauty in his more limited palette.  While Rajna can and does crank up the volume, the extended timings often make the most dramatic playing seem like momentary outbursts in long streams of notes, sapping passion a bit, but replacing it with a different vibe.  In the long El Amor y la Muerte, the vibe is one of solemnity and introspection, and it's less immediate than other takes.  There's a calculated, abstract feel to the playing.  That's not a complaint, per se, but it yields a different effect.  The Epilogue has a bit more intensity in it, but it retains the calculated feel, but that's OK, and all the more so since Rajna also recorded all of Granados' piano music in a handy set. 

Likable performance.

[Todd]

#9

Everyone's favorite Detroit ivory tickler, Edmund Battersby, recorded this version way back in 1990, and 'twas nominated for a Grammy in 1991.  The nominating folks got one right.  Right from the outset, this take is unabashedly romantic, with Los requiebros starting off daringly slow before seamlessly moving into quick, robust, almost ideally inflected playing.  Coloquio en la reja takes nearly a minute longer than normal, but at no point does it sound slow.  Rather, it sounds impassioned but often held back at the same time.  The same cannot be written about the Fandango, which has snap, crackle, pop and sounds maximally extroverted, with Battersby's digital dexterity a thing to marvel at.  Quejas, o La Maja y el ruiseñor flits between moods and dynamic levels with aplomb, and fades gently away.  That gentleness is rudely and brilliantly interrupted by the thundering open of El Amor y la Muerte, which then moves back and forth between pensive slow playing, and swift, impassioned forte playing that evokes nothing less than Liszt's Dante sonata in terms of passion and heat and drama.  Yeah.  The Epilogue mixes introspection and pianistic color and flashes of virtuosic display in perfect measure.  A dark horse recording.

Mr Battersby's recording makes one lament the fact that vast numbers of Koch Schwann recordings remain unreissued.  What other gems are in that catalog, I mean other than Gotthard Kladetzky's complete LvB Piano Music (not just sonatas) and some Haydn by PBS?  Mr Battersby is also one of two pianists in this survey who taught at Bloomington at the time of his death while only in his 60s.  A real loss, indeed.

[Todd]

#8

Luis Fernando Pérez benefits from tip-top-tier recorded sound in his set, which only enhances his style.  That style is slow, but not leisurely; colorful and serious; and about the subtlest of subtleties.  Sure, he thwacks out perfectly controlled forte passages, but in the slow, delicate music, he plays a pianissimo to piano range of at least eight-bit differentiation.  His ability to hold this or that note for just a smidgeon longer than one first thinks he will and to also keep the flow going is really most remarkable.  The opening two movements hypnotize the listener with such playing.  The Fandango is close to average in timing, and it has flair and drive, but it's less snappy than some other takes, but no less effective.  Entirely predictably, Quejas, o La Maja y el ruiseñor sounds gorgeous and passionate, but not ever overwrought, with hints of restraint.  Pérez then takes the liberty on inserting an entire additional movement, the Intermezzo from the opera setting of the work.  It's a nice, very Spanish sounding addition, and doesn't detract at all.  The listener can always program it out or skip it, as inadvisable as that may be.  (Pérez is not the only pianist to fiddle with the piece at the movement level.)  El Amor y la Muerte is long and slow, and while weight and lower register richness is on offer, it is the slow, somber, yet achingly beautiful playing that really stands out here.  The Epilogue is very slow, and in places one luxuriates as Pérez stretches entire figures out, and the overall impact has a satisfying unvirtuosic ending.

If Goyescas can broadly be split into faster, more robust takes, and slower, more languid, aural painting takes, Pérez obviously falls into the latter category.  Beguilingly so. 

[Mandryka]

The challenge which the romantics have is to make it sound natural, spontaneous, unpretentious, modest. I guess this is always the way with embellishments, and my experience with Baroque harpsichord music shows me that I myself find one and the same embellishments feel unwanted and ugly at one time, beautiful and natural at another.

Listening to the great Michel Block now - listening to Pérez and Battersby and Luisada helps to get his achievement into perspective.

[Dry Brett Kavanaugh]

#13

Viviana Lasaracina's recording is the slowest overall take in this survey, taking nearly sixty-three minutes to complete.  One hears what she's all about in Los requiebros, where she plays the slower music very slowly in many places, taking her time, playing gently, and bringing the music to a pause in many places, allowing the listener to savor the silence.  She maintains the musical line and her rhythmic control is excellent, even when playing slow.  To be sure, she plays faster music quickly, with heft and color.  She does not bring the same flexibility and (perhaps) idiomatic rhythmic flair that the very best versions do.  She does bring a sense of irresistible languidness to Coloquio en la reja, which comes in at fourteen minutes.  It meanders, it wanders, it lazily unfolds.    The Fandango remains slow in comparative terms, but has the requisite verve, while Quejas, o La Maja y el ruiseñor mixes leisureliness and energy nicely.  El Amor y la Muerte lasts a quarter of an hour, and many passages are slow burns, demonstrate subdued passion, and when she does let loose, it's nice, but not as potent or weighty as other versions.  It does, however, blend perfectly with her conception.  She closes out with a sometimes boisterous Epilogue.  Overall, this recording falls squarely into the slow interpretation camp, where Ms Lasaracina is joined by pianists like Rajna, Luisada, Paik, and Perianes.  Not everyone will dig slow takes.  I kinda do, and not a little in some cases.

Interesting playing. Reminds me of Jazz pianist Thelonious Monk.

[Todd]

#7

Old man Paik has come a long way from some of his more youthful recordings, such as his blue hot Scriabin, to deliver a leisurely take on this work.  To be sure, he has always been able to go for the extended recording, as his extra-slow take on Liszt's Benediction De Dieu Dans La Solitude demonstrates.  This recording, though, seems slightly different.  The tempi are indeed slow throughout, but nothing too extreme.  It seems that Paik chose to sort of luxuriate and ruminate on the piece.  One hears it all through Los requiebros, which though it can and does exude some loud, beefy playing, has an almost lilting rhythm throughout, and ravishing, deliberate quiet playing everywhere its appropriate.  Coloquio en la reja remains focused on introspective beauty throughout.  While Paik generally gets the rhythms right, and plays with lovely rubato, the music sounds not so much Spanish as like an abstract musical dream, kind of gently unfolding and moving sort of aimlessly from beauty to beauty.  The Fandango is slower than normal, but it evokes both dancing and slow guitar plucking expertly, in a robust impressionistic manner.  Quejas, o La Maja y el ruiseñor sounds slower than it is thanks to experts pauses, lovely steadiness, and Paik's ability to play gently and beautifully and steadily, and those gentle trills, oh my.  El Amor y la Muerte starts off dark and heavy, and Paik brings the weight where needed, but mostly the movement slowly moves along, beautiful as all get out, sounding solemn and sorrowful and wistful at once.  The slow Epilogue starts with exaggerated, stumbling rhythm and moves along in a fantastical, ethereal, but weighty way, sometimes slowing to a crawl, sometimes revving up, sometimes overwhelming, sometimes not.  'Tis nice.  Real nice.  The same can be written of the whole recording. 

[Dry Brett Kavanaugh]

Todd, you use the term "science" on several posts/threads, but you may want to be careful about the terminology as there are a few social and natural scientists in the GMG community. You may want to check the debate between Kuhn and Popper.

[Todd]

but you may want to be careful about the terminology as there are a few social and natural scientists in the GMG community

Careful?  Please elaborate.

[AnotherSpin]

The primary question in science is "How?" How is it structured? How does it work? When applied to performance of music, this perspective morphed to questions like "How should this be played?" or "How should it not be played?", "Was this played correctly or incorrectly?" — in other words, a strictly administrative, legalistic, or bureaucratic angle. This approach certainly has its place, no problem. But a performance can just as well be evaluated through other questions: "Why is this being performed?", "Who is performing this?", "For whom is it being played?", "Why not play it this way?" And so on. It's important to note that the bureaucratic (or let's call it scientific) perspective is in conflict with these other viewpoints.

[Dry Brett Kavanaugh]

Careful?  Please elaborate.

You may want to call only real science "science" as you don't call pizza or ramen noodle "pasta." The wrongful usage of the term science sounds like snake oil at best and it may have a legal consequence at worst. It will lower your credibility anyway.

[Todd]

You may want to call only real science "science" as you don't call pizza or ramen noodle "pasta." The wrongful usage of the term science sounds like snake oil at best and it may have a legal consequence at worst.

LOL.  It just gets better.

[Todd]

and it may have a legal consequence at worst.

Please elaborate on this point specifically.  Be as precise and comprehensive as possible.  What are the potential legal consequences?  I really want your professional legal advice on this matter.

[Mandryka]

Lock the thread NOW!