L'apogée de la science française: Miroirs

[Todd]

Steven Osborne starts Noctuelles in quick, light, flitting fashion, and maintains a steady forward momentum.  Nary a note is out of place, and Osborne offers more of his fastidiously prepared museum quality playing.  That is even more evident in Oiseaux tristes, in which every section is pristinely presented, yet evokes nothing more than the notes.  In addition to predictable dynamic fineness, Osborne's tonal control beguiles.  Une barque sur l'océan offers pristine beauty and rapidity to start, before building up to massive forte playing followed by magisterial musical undulations.  Alborada del gracioso is not especially fast, but the precise, hard-hitting – but not too hard-hitting – delivery makes the music swing at the open, and then Osborne brings in big thwacks when needed.  He speeds things up nicely in the second half, before slowing for the dramatic coda.  La vallée des cloches starts with slow, barely there playing, the quickly transitions to swifter playing, and the quickly transitions again to slower, somber atmospheric playing, with some sweet, gentle tolling bells in the mix.  A tier.

[Todd]

Anna Vinnitskaya starts with a quick, flitting Noctuelles, with nicely and fluidly variable tempi, a bright sound, and fine dynamics.  It's a thoroughly modern take, supremely well executed and characterful, but not too much so.  No eccentricities here.  A very Le Gibetian vibe marks the opening of Oiseaux tristes, which then moves along in a steady fashion until a puckish outburst, complete with (controlled) chaos around a buck fifty in, and then it falls back.  Une barque sur l'océan sounds delightfully bright and breezy to open, and the big swells, if not as big as others, move up and down with remarkable fluidity, hence the remark.  Alborada del gracioso is swift, rhythmically sure, and somewhat light, but very clear, with spiffy repeated notes.  La vallée des cloches starts off with a light, dreamy sound and then after some nice heavyish tolling transitions to one of the most solemn takes around.  B tier.

[Todd]

Jean-Philippe Collard delivers a slightly broad Noctuelles, keeps pedaling down, delivers nice clarity, but the playing not only doesn't really evoke anything, it's kind of, well, plain.  It would definitely fall into the interpretationless category.  Oiseaux tristes fares better with this approach, with a slow, austere open moving to relaxed playing interspersed with some nicely flurryesque playing.  Une barque sur l'océan is fairly broad, and while Collard does everything he needs to do, it sounds rather plain.  Again.  Alborada del gracioso defines middle of the road playing, with nothing that sounds bad, but nothing that really pops until around five minutes in.  La vallée des cloches finds Collard in his best form, with a somewhat solemn feel right from the outset, but one out of five ain't great.  C tier.

[Todd]

Gwendolyn Mok starts with a quick, chaotic sounding Noctuelles, with the "period" piano offering a different sound, with quicker decays and a flatter lower register.  It may also contribute to the slightly rushed and/or assertive sound.  The quick decay helps accentuate the dynamic level differences between the notes in the opening of Oiseaux tristes.  After the opening, the playing sounds slower than its actual tempo, and the timbre yields a hybrid impressionistic-modernist sound.  Une barque sur l'océan opens with a flurry of notes, and the drier sound of the instrument makes the music sound more assertive.  The upper registers appeal, but sound comparatively undernourished.  Mok's quick approach offers the most in the very snappy Alborada del gracioso, which bops along straight through.  La vallée des cloches starts off quickly, and maintains an overall fast tempo, and here the lower register tempo adds some tonal distinction that works nicely, but the playing sounds perhaps a bit too direct.  C tier.

[Todd]

Vlado Perlemuter's Vox recording starts off with a Noctuelles where the clean-ish fingerwork and purposely pulled to and fro tempo do a creditable job creating a musical approximation of mothy chaos.  There's also a difficult to fully describe sense of ease to the music making, even though Perlemuter is no Rana.  It's similar to what Cortot delivers in some of his recordings.  Oiseaux tristes, also displaying clean-ish fingerwork, is unrushed, less evocative than the opener, but also displays that easy feeling.  Une barque sur l'océan opens light and breezy, and adds some tumultuousness, but Perlemuter never really ramps up the forte playing, which is partly due to the old recording, partly due to the playing.  Alborada del gracioso bops along nicely, with snazzy rhythm and ample energy.  La vallée des cloches is taken more swiftly than normal for the duration, and the result is more effectively quasi-hypnotic, or at least lulling, than one would think.  It just sort of sneaks up on the listener.  Not one of the greats, but none too shabby.  B tier.

[Todd]

Pascal Rogé opens his Noctuelles markedly slower than most other versions, drawing out each note, lavishing small, little tonal nuances on each.  He never really lets rip, instead displaying absolute control in every aspect of playing.  Truth to tell, it's kinda Michelangeliesque.  Oiseaux tristes starts off with hushed playing, then it moves into the same type of slow-motion, absolute control style of playing.  He coaxes unsurpassed beauty from his piano while he does so, making the music sound like an extension of Debussy.  Une barque sur l'océan keeps with the same vibe.  In Alborada del gracioso, Rogé picks up the pace a bit, though he's hardly about speed here.  Rhythmic verve, though, is quite high, and the dynamic contrasts are just swell.  The slow and beautiful style remains in La vallée des cloches, and the opening works well, but after things slow down even more, the playing sounds not only solemn, but nearly transcendent in style.  It's a deep piece from a composer not often associated with great depth.  (Some really heavy duty low frequency noise appears in the coda, indicating some external noise source or excess studio knob twiddling to boost levels of what would have to be pppp playing.)  This is an individual take on the work, to be sure.  Big boxes do not come as fast and furious as earlier in the century, but surely Decca should release a Rogé big box.  A tier.

[Todd]

Has it really been nearly a quarter century since Lise de la Salle's recording was released?  It has.  Anhyoo, Ms de la Salle starts Noctuelles swift, light, and almost scattershot to open, with virtuosic flair to spare throughout.  There are hints of Giesekingian nonchalance aplenty.  Oiseaux tristes starts hushed and slow and bright, and throughout she displays delicious dexterity and an ability to slow way down and keep the musical tension intact.  Une barque sur l'océan sparkles and undulates to start, and she just ramps up from there, with some nearly hypervirtuosic glissandi and swells, with the result an entirely surface interpretation of no little aural attractiveness.  Alborada del gracioso is all snappy rhythm and energy and big dynamic swings and sweet repeated notes.  La vallée des cloches starts slowish, switches to swiftish playing with the right hand playing poked out over the accompaniment, and then transitions to somewhat somber, definitely attractive, but also a bit too rushed playing.  That a young teenager could deliver a version with so much energy and panache overall impresses.  B tier.

[Todd]

Paul Crossley, in slightly metallic sound, starts Noctuelles with a moderate tempo, fine clarity, and the playing is a bit bland.  Throw in some patches of rubato that don't really work, and the opener ends up ho-hum.  The bright, metallic sound works nicely enough in Oiseaux tristes, but Crossley keeps things a bit too laid back most of the time.  Une barque sur l'océan sounds attractive to open, and the tempo works well enough, but as the piece continues on, it never really swells dynamics adequately, though the upper registers appeal.  Alborada del gracioso is just too slow and lumbering.  A whiff.  Crossley's slower overall approach works better in La vallée des cloches, with a nice sense of atmosphere, but the overall work doesn't work particularly well.  D tier.

[Todd]

Homero Francesch starts Noctuelles dizzyingly fast, pushing the music beyond any semblance of something enjoyable.  Francesch backs off after the opening onslaught, but keeps things taut and nearly twitchy.  It's essentially the un-Crossley.  There's no doubting the pianist's ability to hit the notes, but there's ample doubt about the approach.  Oiseaux tristes can't help but start off slower, and indeed, Francesch plays with color and nuance to start, but then he ramps up speed again, though here it's more contained and less deleterious.  Une barque sur l'océan evokes less a boat on the ocean than a kayak navigating Class 5.1 rapids.  Alborada del gracioso is predictably fast, and aggressive, but that works a little better here, though it's not especially desirable, nor is the harsh sound.  La vallée des cloches starts slowly for a few moments, revs way up, compressing everything, and then moves to a somewhat quick and kind of unpleasant style for the duration.  Like Joe Kent talking, it's just too much.  D tier.

[Todd]

Alexandre Tharaud seems to start midphrase in Noctuelles, but otherwise goes for a very swift, nimble take.  While not that much longer than Francesch, it's far less aggressive and far more flexible, and obviously preferable.  Oiseaux tristes sounds clean and quick, and quite cool to start, with the upper registers having some real tartness to them.  Une barque sur l'océan keeps with the quick, clean feel and undulates nicely, but in something of an almost too pristine, clinical way.  The engineers did provide a recording that offers some of the widest dynamic range in the survey, which is nice.  Alborada del gracioso, while quick, is more in line with most recordings, with more of those wide dynamic swings.  Rhythm is solid if perhaps not ideally fluid.  La vallée des cloches starts quick, then slows down to a still slightly quick approach that sounds decently atmospheric, but retains a certain coolness.  C tier.

[Todd]

Philippe Bianconi starts with clear, nearly (pleasingly) brittle playing in Noctuelles, with some emphatic phrase endings and nimbleness aplenty.  There's a seriousness and refinement that limits the piece's ability to evoke any imagery, but that's fine.  Bianconi brings that seriousness and refinement to Oiseaux tristes, making sure to luxuriate in the slow playing and deliver bright upper registers.  Une barque sur l'océan starts beautifully, and with a sort of excess clarity, wherein every note is clearly audible and mostly evenly weight, the nice accents aside, and it creates a sort of cascading effect.  The swelling playing is fine, if not massive.  Alborada del gracioso is quick, snappy, and dry, with some punchy left hand playing.  La vallée des cloches starts crisp and quick, and then when it moves to the slower music, it has nice tolling notes and a serious, almost severe mien.  B tier.