Scarlatti : 5 Sonatas (K.380, 3, 514, 481, 141)
Ravel : Miroirs
Mahler : Symphony No. 5 - Adagietto (trans. Tharaud)
Beethoven : Piano Sonata No. 23 "Appassionata"
Alexandre Tharaud is on my "Chopsticks" list of pianists (which is a Good Thing, if you're a newcomer to this blog, by the way). It's the clarity and versatility of his playing that has always attracted me, and tonight was no exception. What was particularly fascinating was how the piano seemed to change as an instrument under his hands, depending on the music being played.
He's one of the few pianists who can make Baroque music work on a modern concert grand. It's not that he makes the piano sound like a harpsichord, that's an impossibility. Rather he makes the music sound as if it might actually have been written for half a tonne of wood and hyper-tensed steel, rather than the infinitely more delicate workings of the harpsichord, clavichord or any of the other 17th or 18th century keyboard salon instruments. It's in the exceptional precision of articulation and attack, the virtually invisible (I should say inaudible) pedalling, the delicacy of touch which renders the music so legible on an instrument infinitely more powerful than that for which the pieces - in this instance a handful of Scarlatti sonatas - were conceived.
Although one of the more traditionally salient features of Scarlatti sonatas - their 'Spanishness' for want of a better term - was somewhat downplayed, Tharaud still revelled in their originality, in their unique coloration and twists and turns, and the same enjoyment could be heard in the Ravel, while the piano became a completely different instrument, silver-toned and imbued with mystery. Miroirs - even the most flamboyant number, the Alborada del gracioso - was cool and refined, full of quiet melancholy, distant as if a memory, rather than a direct image, a reflection, as the title suggests.
After the break, the piano sound broadened and warmed, with deep, sonorous basses, and powerful chords. The Mahler was quite an interesting choice, and of course, the tradition of pianist-transcribers is a rich one, particularly amongst the French. That said, I wasn't completely convinced by this version of the famous Adagietto from the 5th Symphony. The art of transcription is a tricky one; Liszt, of course, was the master, and even for him, there were two sorts. There were the Paraphrases, which aren't transcriptions but original works using material drawn from another composer's work, and then there were the true transcriptions, like the Beethoven Symphonies, and the point of those is that they actually sound as if they might have been written by the original composer. The transcriber has effaced himself completely behind the source, and that was something that did not happen here. One doesn't associate Mahler much with the piano in any event, and this was certainly, recognisably, the Adagietto, but it brought nothing to the piece, and even lost something in the transposition.
Restraint and articulation were the key-words governing Tharaud's reading of the Appassionata too, but here the control was truly impressive, because the tension and drama in the piece were ratcheted up progressively from the opening of the first movement right through to the final bars of the last. The 2nd movement variations, quiet and graceful, provided a short respite, but the sensation of something being held in abeyance was omnipresent. I've heard more tumultuous performances, but few more effective.
[Next : 20th November]
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