Recording Review #43: Prelude Palooza

72 Preludes (by Chopin, Scriabin, and Yashiro). Mao Fujita, pianist. Sony Classical 19802825762. 

With this intriguingly titled release, Japanese pianist Mao Fujita offers performances of three 24-prelude cycles – two well-known Western collections plus an Eastern one that is unfamiliar in the West. Echoing Sony's promotional blurb, they unite the Japan where Fujita grew up with the Europe where he now lives. It's an attractive idea and well executed. Fujita is clearly excited to introduce us to the music of Akio Yashiro, who died at the young age of 46 and left behind a relatively small body of compositions. But there's also much to recommend his Chopin and especially Scriabin, despite my intermittent reservations on points of interpretation. The overarching result is a polished product that positively reflects the artistry of all represented, if unevenly so. 

We'll consider each group in chronological order. Fujita's best assets as a pianist are his subtle gradations and silky tone colors, especially in calmer passages. His weaknesses are a lack of intensity when the going gets stormy, and an occasional tendency to over-pedal. Given the wide gamut of character states in Chopin's much-loved Op. 28 preludes, everything here averages out to a qualified success. Some numbers are simply stunning, with the A Minor (No. 2) and F-Sharp Minor (No. 8) standing out. In the former, the gentle dissonances in the left hand have just the right amount of velvety bite. In the latter different shades of sound entirely offset some missing passion. I have rarely heard a more beautiful middle section in the F-Sharp Major (No. 13). On the other hand, I found the B-Flat Minor (No. 16) lacking in fire, with the E-Flat Major and D Minor (Nos. 19 and 24) exhibiting similar shortcomings. The F Minor (No. 18) is too halting and recitative-like. The G Minor (No. 22), however, bucks the trend and comes off as suitably fearsome. 

Fujita dispatches Scriabin's Op. 11 set with better interpretive aim and consistency. If he still occasionally underplays climaxes (as in No. 1 in C), there is nice passion in some of the others (hear Nos. 14, 18, and 24, for example). But it's in Scriabin's trademark languid moods where Fujita's sound is absolutely sumptuous; you're not going to hear much better Nos. 12-13. Another highlight is No. 21 in B-Flat, which bursts with major-key loveliness. 

I wish I could say the 24 preludes by Akio Yashiro match the creative level of the Chopin and Scriabin sets. But, perhaps unsurprisingly, they do not as a whole. Frankly I find most of them to be a bit on the quotidian side. However there are some important exceptions, the most notable of which is No. 18. This has a faint flavor of Sakura Sakura about it, but also a strong identity of its own. The slow tempo and soto-like figures in the right hand contribute to a vivid atmosphere that entirely pulls the listener in. I can't imagine very many pianists adopting the whole Yashiro cycle into their performing repertoire, but I can absolutely see this one piece attaining widespread prominence as an encore or other standalone offering. That it is by a 15-year-old composer just adds to one's astonishment. While none of Yashiro's other preludes quite reach this level for me, some with slower tempi come close (hear Nos. 14 and 16). 

So, please do listen to this for some good-to-great Chopin, some great Scriabin, and a few Yashiro gems that are worth the entire listening experience all by themselves. 

Verdict: Eagerly Recommended