Tír Na HiFi

In this thread I suggested a return to our Listening Project on a casual basis, and I also wondered why I keep buying different recordings of music I already own rather than delving into new stuff. Well, the music that prompted that question was Debussy's Preludes (for solo piano), so I thought I might start a thread and see if we can get some discussion going. Indeed, cybot started this ball rolling a couple of weeks ago, so maybe I can encourage him to chime in too. I'd like to keep it informal enough, so I'll probably just ramble on here for a while and I'd encourage anyone and everyone to do the same.

What is it about Debussy, and particularly the first book of Preludes, that keeps drawing me in? After all, if you asked me my favourite composer and period it would be Bach and Baroque until the cows come home. I've said before on here that I struggle with a lot of the romantic era, so why does Debussy, a composer who on the face of it is a direct descendent of the Romantic era, float my boat?

Well, in the first place it's just so damn EVOCATIVE! Obviously this music is called Impressionist for a reason and I'm on well-trodden ground here, but Debussy portrays the magic of moments and images and feelings without shining too strong a light on them and ruining that magic. It's no accident that the "names" of the Preludes are given at the end of each in the score, and even then they're placed in parentheses just in case you were inclined to take them too literally. Obviously some are more programmatic than others (Ce qu'a vu le vent d'ouest channels the west wind pretty clearly after all) but most have a fragmentary feel, a little snatch of a movement or a particular colour of the light that conjures up a sensation rather than a strong picture. This dreamlike quality has always appealed to me, and on a good day (or more likely, night) I can find myself virtually hypnotised listening to this music, coming to only when I realise that I'm listening to silence and the music is long finished. The pervading melancholy twinge I hear throughout only enhances this effect, it seems to speak directly to the soul, unencumbered by the usual considerations of form and structure.

(Speaking of which, part of my issue with a lot of classical and romantic music is that, ridiculously enough, I just don't seem to dig the sonata form. That's a stupid thing to say, I accept, but as the first "modern" composer Debussy seems to stand at the point where these forms are breaking down, and as a consequence his music feels free. It's not like it's formless, far from it, just...freer!)

Another related factor is the sheer sonority of the music. Everything I love about the piano is represented in these 12 pieces, from virtuoso steel-fingered stuff all the way to delicate, "simple", single lines played very softly. The piano is a marvellous instrument, capable of so many sounds and moods, and they're all here. The sheer ravishing beauty of the instrument comes through frequently, with the full gamut of possibility in terms of dynamics and pitch well and truly explored. Of course, a magical spell like this can easily be broken, and a corollary for me is that I can't abide bad recording quality for this music. The standard recommendation for the Preludes is Gieseking, but I can't do it. I've tried, but if I can't hear the beauty of the instrument I'm missing out on too much. Whereas with Bach I could cope with a kazoo band as long as I can hear the lines, with Debussy that doesn't work for me.

I think that's why I continue to buy recordings, even though I'm perfectly happy with some of those that I already have (I'll come back to specifics later). There's always room to find some more magic here, there are always layers to be uncovered, and the hypnotic effect is too good a drug. When I first bought the score (I was 15 according to the date on the inside cover) this music seemed simple. There didn't seem to be too many notes, everything looked pretty clear, the music seemed to invite just letting your feelings do the work, and I thought I'd be able to master a few of them without too much difficulty. 23 years later I can't play even a single one, and having read along while listening earlier this evening (something I rarely do) I'm even more gobsmacked at how much there is to consider beyond Debussy's detailed instructions. Still, I have my views about how the music should be played, and I'll hopefully get a chance to discuss the specifics of the recordings I own in later posts.

Very interesting and thought provoking post Simon. Like you my musical preferences are firmly rooted in the Baroque with the occasional foray into the Romantic era. It took me a long time to find some appreciation for the music of Debussy. As you say Debussy was one of the first “modern” composers and it took me a long time to educate my ear to his musical language and the fact that his music was indeed not adhering to the normal formal structures. However, I eventually overcame these personal issues to gain some appreciation of what he was about but I could never really warm to his music. This in itself I actually find surprising because in the realm of the Visual Arts my favourite era would no doubt be the Impressionists curiously enough; so why has that appreciation not transferred?

Another issue that I have here is that I am publicly on record as having said that I am not a lover of solo piano music even though I still listen to quite a bit of it (I endeavour to prevail!). However, I am open to conversion as I have been in the past; I actually prefer to listen to Pictures at an Exhibition in the original solo piano form over the orchestral version as a direct result of a thread very similar to this one in the past. I hope that I can be re-educated here also.

One point where I unhesitatingly agree with you is in the required quality of performance in Debussy’s music (even the orchestral music). I have heard too many poor recordings which do not reflect the required nuances; perhaps this is what has helped to put me off?

I have just checked my catalogue and the only recording that I have of the First Book of Preludes is an old vinyl version played by Cortot. I must dig that one out and give it a listen just to familiarise myself with the music but I look forward to your recommendations. So, I am greatly looking forward to being educated here and hopefully I will benefit from the discussions.

The very impressionistic nature of Debussy's music appeals to my hunger for this semi-improv holy grail. I can understand exactly where he's coming from despite (or because?) of my lack of virtuoso pianistic skills. The hoary statement 'space between the notes' rears its ugly head once again. I know what it means but it's impossible to convey to others (myself included!) exactly what it actually means. Want to have a go Simon? To my ears it sort of frees up the music and somehow ends up making it sound timeless; As in free of the constraints of time. Also this has the wonderful effect of leaving the music somehow fresh everytime you return to it.

Also I would have to agree that for solo piano the recording quality is of paramount importance. As in correct mic placement. As in the inherent quality of the piano etc etc Obviously the performance is important too but not distracting.....to me anyway.

I'll be interested to see your take on recordings, I looked at Gieseking for other Debussy and didn't like it at all, for the preludes I - I'm only familiar with Pollini and Zimerman, and even at that I would only rarely play them (my usual first port of call of Beethoven is normally only displaced by Chopin, and when it comes to Debussy, its usually the Suite Bergamesque)

I'll make sure to listen over the coming days!!

Debussy is one of the very greatest of composers who in his Préludes moved beyond motivic and thematic development as a means of exposition in favour of an impressionistic evocation of his subject material through the use of ambiguously formed harmonies and fragmentary dreamlike melodies which progressively coalesce and harmonise over time in the listener's mind as a profound yet unsettling sensuous experience.

To my mind, the difficulty for the pianist in performing these masterpieces lies in just how to convey the  harmonic ambiguities that Debussy imbued into the score without undue simplification and without compromising the inherent dreamlike nature of these works.  One of the finest recent versions I have heard is that by Pierre-Laurent Aimard whose utterly objective approach to the score is striking, as is the sheer clarity of the timbral sonorities he produces.    With this music, every note and every rest has a profound significance and Aimard favours a patient, deliberate approach.  This is a thoughtful, cerebral and utterly absorbing reading.  Other versions convey more of Debussy's lightness of touch as well as his warmth and wit but I find Aimard's coolly direct approach to be very satisfying.

It makes for very interestng listening to play Bavouzet's version so soon after Aimard's.  Whereas Aimard's readings are memorable for their utter impassiveness, laser-like focus and cool clarity, Bavouzet injects more warmth, elegance, vividness and vivacity into his performances without compromising these works' inherent sense of mystery.  With Bavouzet, there is a heightened sense of the interplay between the harmonic and emotional textures of light and shadow.  I get more of a sense that this is music born out of reflection and deep contemplation, which excited Debussy's sense of harmonic adventure on a musical level but which also expressed the interior life of episodes lived/dreamt/observed and ultimately provoked an examinination of the subjective emotions aroused within him in musical terms. Perhaps what impresses most about Bavouzet's performances is the sense of balance he achieves between objectivity and impassiveness on one hand whilst retaining the music's sensual sweep of the imaginative subconscious.

Noriko Ogawa's versions of the Préludes are refined and understated and subtly nuanced interpretations that I find profoundly rewarding.  Not as emotionally expressive as Bavouzet's readings, they retain some of the objectivity of Aimard's performances whilst incorporating rather more grace and warmth.  These are carefully cultivated versions, remarkable for their sense of stillness and spareness and austerity, which require the listener's close attention in order to reap their considerable rewards.  It is Ogawa's significant achivement that she succeeds in the evocation of a series of emotional impressions that are as fleeting and ambiguous and fugitive in nature as the harmonies and tonal centres of the musical structures which they inhabit.

Sorry it's taken me so long to get back to this, but it's good that Paul has included his thoughts about these particular recordings since they're the most obvious ones that I *don't* own! I came very close to ordering the Ogawa set a few months back, but in the end I plumped for the Gordon Fergus Thompson, not least because it was so cheap. I think it was a pretty good purchase, as I like what I've heard so far.

One way or the other, I always feel that the Debussy interpreter has to walk a very fine line. On the one hand, I personally feel that clarity is incredibly important. Debussy's harmonic language really tempts overuse of the sustain pedal on the piano, and while that can create a sumptuous soundscape in which to wallow, to my ears it always brings the danger of turning the music into a muddy swamp. On the other hand, playing that's too direct, too incisive, seems to rob the music of some of its ethereal magic, and it seems at odds with the famous Debussy quote: "one must forget that the piano has hammers".

Anyway, I'll nail my colours to the mast early: for me Zimerman's recording is desert island disc stuff. At first listen, the piano sound might seem a little hard-toned, and that's surely the exact opposite of what we want. But listen to the ebb and flow of the music, the dynamic contrasts, the tiny little pauses, the space the music is given to breathe, the sheer intensity of each and every note. I find it intoxicating and hypnotic in a way that some other recordings can't deliver. Now, not everyone will be attracted to this approach, and indeed I can accept the argument that it's all a bit too intense. I don't share the view, but I can see where it comes from. However, compare and contrast the first Prelude as played by Zimerman:



and by Michelangeli:



Taken alone, I can't criticise Michelangeli at all, it's a great performance, rightfully lauded. But following Zimerman's intensity and space, it all just seems a touch pedestrian, a little obvious, maybe just the tiniest bit monochrome? All opinions are my own, obviously, and I don't expect anyone to share them!

More later...

I also own the complete set of Debussy works as played by Gordon Fergus-Thompson (in a Brilliant Classics box wth the Ravel piano works played by Paul Crossley) and it's excellent value for money and very well played.  An amazing bargain.  The Zimerman performances are masterly, some of the finest these works have ever received.  I agree with you on the Michelangeli Préludes but I do urge you to hear his version of Images and Children's Corner.  Quite stunning.



By the way, it's quite revealing to listen to Bartók's solo piano music alongside Debussy's and to realise just how much Bartók absorbed from Debussy.  It's no accident that many (though not all) of the great Debussy interpreters also excelled at Bartók.

Listened to my historical performance by Alfred Cortot....





....not quite on 78 rpm but the next best thing, 10" vinyl.

I did not realize it but I do own the Michelangeli referred to above so I will give that one a listen soon.