
Kotaro Fukuma is a name I'd only seen positive comments about until I finally splurged on two recordings, this one, and his more recent Beethoven recital on Naxos. For this recording, I went with the deluxe edition, which means that
Deux danses espagnoles,
España (!),
Célèbre sérénade espagnole,
Navarra, and
La Vega (!!) are also included. Mr Fukuma has done the competition and recording thing for a while, so he's not a newbie. It kinda shows.
Albéniz's magnum opus has a few rather fine recordings out there, of course, with de Larrocha's multiple versions all worth serious consideration, though both the Spaniard Esteban Sánchez and the Belgium-born, Mexican-raised Michel Block are more to my taste. Well, here comes Mr Fukuma to offer something a bit different and pretty much as compelling. Sánchez's darker, more animated take and Block's more languid and layered approach differ from Fukuma's pristinely clean, colorful but not hazy playing, punctuated by incredibly nuanced and refined touch. Oh, yeah, sure,
Al Albaicin has oomph and kick, with undulating rhythm and dynamic swells, and every other piece that requires it does, too, but that's only part of the magic.
El Polo has a delicate, nuanced rhythmic sense, with perfectly refined accenting.
Almeria emerges as something of an unexpected highlight. Here's music played with such precise, gentle, refined touch, with perfect dynamic relationships between chords and phrases, that one sits sort of numbed to non-pianistic goings on. And the best part is that any time this kind of music appears throughout the set, so the does the playing. It's kinda a wow thing, or at least one of those things that, after hearing it, one lets out a gentle laugh and shakes one's head sort of in disbelief, but ultimately belief and delight. Yeah. It's that good. But it's not that Spanish. While listening, as wonderful as it is, one acknowledges but does not miss the greater fluidity that de Larrocha brings, the greater intensity that Sánchez brings, and the near sensuality that Block brings. (Which is why one must have all the sets.) It is sort of like a more Gallic Albéniz, one where Séverac plays an outsized role, and Fukuma's style sounds like an even more refined and tidier Albert Attenelle with French accents. In other words, it's pretty freakin' sweet.
Now to the other good stuff. The
Deux danses espagnoles sparkle and sound bright, with ample rhythmic acuity emerging from Fukuma's fingers. Nice. Nicer still is
España, and here again the heavy hitters have recorded it. I confess a special affection for Block's impossibly beautiful and often too languid by half playing, never more so than in the Tango. If Fukuma cannot match Block here, his crisper, brighter, sunnier overall sound works just fine.
Célèbre sérénade espagnole blends right in qualitatively.
Navarra is yet another piece where Block's style fits better than anyone's, yet, again, Fukuma's approach pays dividends. The set concludes with
La Vega, and here Sánchez rules the roost, with a darker hued, occasionally mysterious, occasionally turbulent take. Fukuma's lighter, more Gallicized take offers its own more delicate and dreamy beauties though.
Overall, this set is a peach. Fukuma does not displace the titans, but it says something that those are the people he inevitably must be compared to, and that he holds his own speaks volumes.
Toss is superb modern sound, and this set is a winner.