This is a highly enjoyable trio of works by that tunesmith
Poulenc, who can rarely be serious without breaking out into some sort
of parody, pastiche, or dry French wit, and the sheer variety of the
three solo keyboard instruments makes it trebly enjoyable. The old LP
with Poulenc and Février playing the double piano concerto and
van de Wiele the Concert Champêtre under Georges Prêtre
was something I grew up on in the 1960s. I have always had a special
penchant for Poulenc’s music. He was an excellent pianist, spending
much of his professional career accompanying his companion, the singer
Pierre Bernac, as well as appearing as a soloist in his concertos; indeed
his music was conceived at the keyboard.
The Piano Concerto (1949) was written to play in Boston
where he was making a guest appearance, hence its final movement’s inclusion
of a snatch of "Swanee River" but it appears that this passed
over the heads of the Bostonians not used to such cryptic messages in
music. It is beautifully played by Pommier, who, at his best, draws
the Rachmaninov colours out of the slow movement with tender lyricism,
but whose phrasing is so beautifully idiomatic throughout. He is the
only Frenchman on the disc, but Maggie Cole’s harpsichord playing, a
curio this and written for Landowska in 1929, catches the various pastiche
styles (such as the 18th century Allegretto, a slow
Sicilienne second movement, and the très gai finale)
with dexterity and colourful registration. The recording has the instrument
too much in the background, even for its solos, the orchestra (unsurprisingly
enjoying its contributions) too dominating - a miscalculation this.
The choice of the RFH organ for the (1938) G minor concerto, accompanied
by strings and timpani, works well, as it happens, but it is an odd
one - this 1951 Ralph Downes-designed instrument being largely more
suited to Bach and his contemporaries. Nevertheless New Zealander Gillian
Weir, one of the finest organists alive, and a Dame to prove it, exploits
its Bach-like Toccata opening with the bright overtones of the
mixtures she chooses in her registration, followed by a highly over-the-top
melodramatic account of the ensuing Allegro. In the music’s more
tranquil moments she even manages to make it sound as much like the
Parisian church of St Sulpice as possible in her choice of registration
of string and mixtures with the occasional soft solo clarinet. Richard
Hickox, in charge of his own CLS, is an exemplary accompanist in all
three concertos.
Christopher Fifield