Recording Review #39: Deserving Dariescu

Clara Schumann: Piano Concerto in A Minor, Op. 7; Grieg: Piano Concerto in A Minor, Op. 16. Alexandra Dariescu, pianist; Tianyi Lu, conductor; Philharmonia Orchestra. Signum Classics SIGCD 799. 

One of my issues with contemporary promotion of women composers is how indiscriminate the particularly zealous often are when it comes to "the music itself." Some of them seem so busy counting female names on concert programs etc. that they don't have much time for other considerations. Sometimes I try to imagine a future where these people get everything they apparently want, including seasons full of major-musician and major-ensemble concerts with nothing but works by women programmed. DECADES, even CENTURIES of this...you know, to make up for the ages of nothing but performances of male-composer works at these venues. Suppose that this battle they're fighting can actually be won. So much music by once-neglected women composers would get heard that they'd eventually have to start worrying about what gets repeated and what doesn't. How might they contend with the inevitability that favorites would start to emerge, and new canons formed, entirely within the world of female-created music? If women composers could somehow finally achieve desired equity with male ones, could questions of comparative musical merit among just themselves be avoided? Or would political intersectionality then be redeployed in some form to police any emergent natural enthusiasm?

These are some of the thoughts that crossed my mind as I listened to this new recording of Clara Schumann's Piano Concerto. In truth, I'm somewhat sorry they did. Because if this concerto deserves one thing, it's to be listened to for its considerable intrinsic qualities rather than according to the dubious advocacy of zealots whose "virtues" Clara herself wouldn't recognize. Is it music worthy of being in the classical music canon? It's at least darned close, and definitely worth repeated performances. Its craft is impressive, and some of the melodies, harmonic progressions, and turns of phrase are gorgeous. That it's the product of a young teenager living in a world cruel to women composers is frankly astonishing. Given the high level of this and other music Clara managed to produce, before her motherhood and support of her husband's career took over, I would not be surprised if some alternate reality (where she kept composing seriously) showed her becoming a canon composer in spite of steep obstacles. 

A search for "Clara Schumann Piano Concerto" at Presto Music shows that there are already a considerable number of recordings, dwarving the amount received by similar compositions of other women composers. There's no doubt about it: Clara's Op. 7 is already a favorite among this group. (From a purely musical standpoint it deserves to be!) I won't pretend to have heard the entire catalogue, but I did sample 5 or 6 recordings beyond the Naxos one with which I had already been familiar (8.557552). To my ears, Dariescu & Co.'s stiffest competition is Howard Shelley's account with the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra, which is part of No. 78 in Hyperion's ongoing Romantic Piano Concerto series (CDA68240). Shelley's may still be my favorite, with an appreciable spirit matched by a rich tone I've always admired. But Dariescu's performance is also superb, and some listeners may justifiably prefer it instead. More than almost all of her competition, her admirable passion is equaled by a wonderful technical control of articulation and dynamics. Most competing recordings lack her high standard in one aspect or the other. Clara Concerto fans will definitely want this one on their shelves, and other listeners ought to as well. 

Pairing the much-loved Grieg Concerto with Clara's is a bold and interesting move. They do evoke similarities: they're obviously both in A Minor, they're both early works in their respective catalogues, and their composers both unfortunately started but didn't finish Second Concertos. It's also clear that Grieg's is being used to help promote Clara's. Which is fine, and I hope the tactic works. But while the Grieg performance here is quite solid, there's simply too much superlative competition for me to recommend this recording on that basis alone. I find Dariescu's sharper-edged pianism more suited to other music. My own ideal Grieg needs a fairy-tale sensibility...and there are plenty such options I could recommend. But, you might better like Dariescu's particular sound in this music. It's purely a preference thing. 

Folks, I'm always going to call it like I see it on this blog. I may be wrong sometimes, but I'm not afraid of crossing powerful personalities or lobbies when I think I'm right. I'm also committed to putting aside my ideological and emotional impulses in trying my best to give credit where it's due. (Maybe I won't always succeed.) I may find the social justice warriors misguided and at times annoying. But that doesn't mean they're always backing losers just because they back them for reasons I don't like. They're not always wrong about grievances in the classical world either. Taking things on an individual basis helps cut through the political garbage. In that spirit, please buy or at least listen to this fine recording of some terrific music. 

Warmly Recommended

Recording Review #20: Luminous Liszt

Liszt: Après une lecture du Dante: Fantasia quasi Sonata (from Années de pèlerinage, Deuxième année: Italie); Bénédiction de Dieu dans la solitude (from Harmonies poétiques et religieuses); Funérailles (from Harmonies poétiques et religieuses); Nuages gris; Piano Sonata in B Minor. Emmanuel Despax, piano. Signum Classics SIG CD798. 2 CD. 

Emmanuel Despax is an avid Lisztian. Being one myself, it's easy for me to cheer such people on nowadays, especially when Liszt seems to be needing friends more than ever. Happily, there is much to recommend in Despax's latest offering, which features a generous helping of Liszt's greatest music. Frankly, I get tired of defending Liszt to people who turn their noses up at him and should have the taste and imagination to know better. But ultimately good performances of his best stuff will change hearts and minds more than anything people like me can say. 

We start with an extremely good Dante Sonata. This is a difficult work to approach interpretively. The form is winding and there are plenty of opportunities for miscalculation. But Despax forges a path that somehow elucidates this complex, problematic score. The agitated material starting at the first Presto is very hard to bring off without it sounding noisy. Despax succeeds brilliantly. But where he is at his best both here and elsewhere is in the quieter, more visionary passages. The F-Sharp Major theme at the Andante is a case in point, and even more so in its repetition to come in the higher register. 

Despax's Bénédiction de Dieu dans la solitude is almost as good. My preference is for more passion in its moments of intensity, and Despax's tempo is slower in many places than I'd like. But never mind. The sounds and colors he gets from Liszt's scrumptious harmonies are some of the best I've ever heard. Maybe the slower tempo even works to an advantage, because practically all you can think about while you hear some of these passages is how much you want to savor them like Despax clearly does. The middle section presents some of the most poetic music Liszt composed, and Despax's tone color throughout it is just lovely. 

I was similarly impressed with Funérailles, which some pianists ruin by "over-banging" the grief-stricken climaxes. Despax keeps things controlled in the best sense, never overdoing loud passages while maintaining a delicate sound in the tender ones. By contrast I thought there could be a bit more grey mystery in Nuages gris. But Despax delivers a fine interpretation all the same. 

Of course the elephant in this room is the B-Minor Sonata, which Jim Svejda has adroitly described as being one of the few Romantic-era piano sonatas equal to any of those Beethoven composed. There is accordingly a huge recording catalogue for this work, with a nice share of legendary outings. The interested pianist therefore has to contend both with formidable technical and interpretive difficulties, and with an intimidating performance history. Despax's is one of the slower run-times I have encountered, clocking in at just under 35 minutes. I was apprehensive when I saw this, but you shouldn't be. Most of that extra time is again used up in the slower passages where Despax very deliberately relishes the gorgeous melodies and thoughtful moments. But he doesn't shrink from the many virtuosic passages, which are dispatched with an admirable mixture of control and élan. The attenuated conclusion is perfect. I don't know where you'll rank Despax's B-Minor Sonata in the Pantheon of Liszt B-Minor Sonatas, but there's enough that's special here for me to place it firmly in good company.

Warmly Recommended