What are you listening to?
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Re: What are you listening to?
Sibelius - Symphony No.7 (Anthony Collins, London Symphony Orchestra, Decca Eloquence)
Re: What are you listening to?
We have been extraordinarily fortunate to have had three exceptional versions of Beethoven's mighty Diabelli Variations added to the catalogue over the past year.
Paul Lewis's version for Harmonia Mundi cements his position as one of the finest and most probing of today's young pianists. To my mind, his reading of the Diabellis is his finest performance to date. He brings to the work the same clarity of thought that his mentor, Alfred Brendel, indelibly imprinted on the work. This is a concentrated performance of great intensity that is alive to the exuberance, mystery and, yes, wit, that lies at the heart of this masterpiece.
Andreas Staier's reading for HM on fortepiano exploits the tonal range of his chosen instrument beautifully. The fortepiano may not have the dynamic range of the modern piano but it is capable of producing a more intimate sound. And, such is the emotional range that Beethoven imbued in these variations that the music certainly benefits from the timbal lightness of the fortepiano. Staier is, arguably, the greatest living exponent of the fortepiano (although, personally, I can't wait to see what Ronald Brautigam makes of this work) and the range of tonal colours he extracts from his instrument is exceptional. His achievement is to remove any concept of grandiose monumentalism from this work and render it in the most deeply human terms. It is a performance lit from within by life with all of its concomitant joys and sorrows.
Daniel Ben-Pienaar's reading on Avie is the most recent version to be released. He is undoubtedly the least well-known of these three pianists but he does not defer in any way to the many illustrious forebears in his playing of this piece. Ben-Pienaar favours a plainly-spoken outlook on this music. There is a gruffness is his playing that reminds me of Kovacevich or Backhaus in its brusqueness. It is exactly this approach that may alienate some listeners initially. The first time I heard this recording, I was surprised. It sounded rough-toned and rushed. Ben-Pienaar appeared to be skimming the surface of the music and, after my first listen, sounded decidedly inferior to Lewis or Staier in this music. But, the more I listened, the more I began to appreciate what Ben-Pienaar was doing. Behind the apparent brusqueness of his playing lies a determination to really engage with the Diabellis as an emotional journey, taking the listener from the most humble beginnings to an otherworldly state of grace. There is a striving quality that informs this performance and Ben-Pienaar clearly sees forward momentum as the key to preserving that energy. The result is one of the most emotionally exhausting versions of the Variations I have ever heard. (Indeed, so impressed have I been with Ben-Pienaar that I subsequently purchased his reading of Bach's Goldberg Variations which are similarly rewarding, especially when played alongside the Diabellis.)
To my mind, the Diabelli Variations strike me as the most concentrated distillation of Beethoven's instrumental genius. They require a balancing act of technical virtuosity and intellectual enquiry on the part of the interpreter in order to successfully confront the vast architectronic demands of these extraordinary works. How exactly must one phrase the moments of rest (variations 11 and 29), solemnity (variations 14 and 20), and -unforgettably - sadness (variation 31), and contrast this with the jagged sense of forward momentum that we hear in variations 19 and 21) and the exuberance of the quote from Mozart's Figaro in Variations 22 to 24. And, crucially, how to tie it all together in the final transfigured coda of Variation 33. How should one generate the necessary speed and thrust without lapsing into glibness, or how to highlight inner details without reducing the tempo to sluggishness, are primary concerns for all interpreters of these greatest of all keyboard works. Such considerations should remind us as listeners of just how privileged we are to sit down, select an interpretation or two from our collection, and listen at will. Personally speaking, one of the greatest pleasures that classical music has to offer is the multitude of interpretations available to us. And yet, it is a common reaction for listeners to defer to a single interpreter as the benchmark and to consider all successive performances in the light of that so-called "ideal" interpretation. I really believe on a personal level that it is essential to try and consider any new performance of a repertoire piece as a blank slate without reference to any preceding performance and to simply ask myself, "Am I moved?". When listening to Ben-Pienaar's performance in particular, I had to forgot about personal references like Richter, Brendel, Sokolov and Anderszewski (to take four examples), and listen anew to attain an appreciation for this fresh new interpretation. And, in the process, I found myself profoundly moved and utterly transported by the genius of Beethoven's inspiration as sublimated by the playing of Ben-Pienaar.
Paul Lewis's version for Harmonia Mundi cements his position as one of the finest and most probing of today's young pianists. To my mind, his reading of the Diabellis is his finest performance to date. He brings to the work the same clarity of thought that his mentor, Alfred Brendel, indelibly imprinted on the work. This is a concentrated performance of great intensity that is alive to the exuberance, mystery and, yes, wit, that lies at the heart of this masterpiece.
Andreas Staier's reading for HM on fortepiano exploits the tonal range of his chosen instrument beautifully. The fortepiano may not have the dynamic range of the modern piano but it is capable of producing a more intimate sound. And, such is the emotional range that Beethoven imbued in these variations that the music certainly benefits from the timbal lightness of the fortepiano. Staier is, arguably, the greatest living exponent of the fortepiano (although, personally, I can't wait to see what Ronald Brautigam makes of this work) and the range of tonal colours he extracts from his instrument is exceptional. His achievement is to remove any concept of grandiose monumentalism from this work and render it in the most deeply human terms. It is a performance lit from within by life with all of its concomitant joys and sorrows.
Daniel Ben-Pienaar's reading on Avie is the most recent version to be released. He is undoubtedly the least well-known of these three pianists but he does not defer in any way to the many illustrious forebears in his playing of this piece. Ben-Pienaar favours a plainly-spoken outlook on this music. There is a gruffness is his playing that reminds me of Kovacevich or Backhaus in its brusqueness. It is exactly this approach that may alienate some listeners initially. The first time I heard this recording, I was surprised. It sounded rough-toned and rushed. Ben-Pienaar appeared to be skimming the surface of the music and, after my first listen, sounded decidedly inferior to Lewis or Staier in this music. But, the more I listened, the more I began to appreciate what Ben-Pienaar was doing. Behind the apparent brusqueness of his playing lies a determination to really engage with the Diabellis as an emotional journey, taking the listener from the most humble beginnings to an otherworldly state of grace. There is a striving quality that informs this performance and Ben-Pienaar clearly sees forward momentum as the key to preserving that energy. The result is one of the most emotionally exhausting versions of the Variations I have ever heard. (Indeed, so impressed have I been with Ben-Pienaar that I subsequently purchased his reading of Bach's Goldberg Variations which are similarly rewarding, especially when played alongside the Diabellis.)
To my mind, the Diabelli Variations strike me as the most concentrated distillation of Beethoven's instrumental genius. They require a balancing act of technical virtuosity and intellectual enquiry on the part of the interpreter in order to successfully confront the vast architectronic demands of these extraordinary works. How exactly must one phrase the moments of rest (variations 11 and 29), solemnity (variations 14 and 20), and -unforgettably - sadness (variation 31), and contrast this with the jagged sense of forward momentum that we hear in variations 19 and 21) and the exuberance of the quote from Mozart's Figaro in Variations 22 to 24. And, crucially, how to tie it all together in the final transfigured coda of Variation 33. How should one generate the necessary speed and thrust without lapsing into glibness, or how to highlight inner details without reducing the tempo to sluggishness, are primary concerns for all interpreters of these greatest of all keyboard works. Such considerations should remind us as listeners of just how privileged we are to sit down, select an interpretation or two from our collection, and listen at will. Personally speaking, one of the greatest pleasures that classical music has to offer is the multitude of interpretations available to us. And yet, it is a common reaction for listeners to defer to a single interpreter as the benchmark and to consider all successive performances in the light of that so-called "ideal" interpretation. I really believe on a personal level that it is essential to try and consider any new performance of a repertoire piece as a blank slate without reference to any preceding performance and to simply ask myself, "Am I moved?". When listening to Ben-Pienaar's performance in particular, I had to forgot about personal references like Richter, Brendel, Sokolov and Anderszewski (to take four examples), and listen anew to attain an appreciation for this fresh new interpretation. And, in the process, I found myself profoundly moved and utterly transported by the genius of Beethoven's inspiration as sublimated by the playing of Ben-Pienaar.
Gryphon Diablo 300, dCS Rossini (with matching clock), Kharma Exquisite Mini, Ansuz C2, Finite Elemente Master Reference.
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Re: What are you listening to?
Glazunov - Violin Concerto (Julia Fischer/Yakov Kreizberg, Russian National Orchestra, Pentatone)
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- Posts: 1370
- Joined: Sun Jul 11, 2010 3:04 pm
Re: What are you listening to?
Prokofiev - Piano Concerto No.2 (Vladimir Krainev/Dmitri Kitaenko, Radio-Sinfonie-Orchester Frankfurt, Warner Apex)
Re: What are you listening to?
That's a very fine post, mcq, with plenty of food for thought. Thank you!
Nerdcave: ...is no more!
Sitting Room: Wadia 581SE - Rega Planar 3/AT VM95ML & SH - Bluesound Node II - Copland CSA 100 - Audioplan Kontrast 3
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Sitting Room: Wadia 581SE - Rega Planar 3/AT VM95ML & SH - Bluesound Node II - Copland CSA 100 - Audioplan Kontrast 3
Kitchen: WiiM Pro - Wadia 151 - B&W 685s2
Re: What are you listening to?
To be is to do: Socrates
To do is to be: Sartre
Do be do be do: Sinatra
To do is to be: Sartre
Do be do be do: Sinatra
Re: What are you listening to?
Many thanks, Simon. That's very kind of you.Diapason wrote:That's a very fine post, mcq, with plenty of food for thought. Thank you!
Gryphon Diablo 300, dCS Rossini (with matching clock), Kharma Exquisite Mini, Ansuz C2, Finite Elemente Master Reference.
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- Posts: 1370
- Joined: Sun Jul 11, 2010 3:04 pm
Re: What are you listening to?
Prokofiev - Sinfonia Concertante (Yo-Yo Ma/Lorin Maazel, Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, Sony Classical)
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- Posts: 1370
- Joined: Sun Jul 11, 2010 3:04 pm
Re: What are you listening to?
Dvorak - Symphonic Variations (John Eliot Gardiner, NDR-Sinfonieorchester, Deutsche Grammophon)
Re: What are you listening to?
Finishing off tonight with this....
To be is to do: Socrates
To do is to be: Sartre
Do be do be do: Sinatra
To do is to be: Sartre
Do be do be do: Sinatra