Even with such an ungenerous
playing time, this disc, which was very
well received on its initial release
in the mid-nineties, represents a formidable
achievement. It was commented on back
then that there was a real dearth of
good recordings of the main work, Le
Marteau sans Maître (The Masterless
Hammer), so such a meticulously prepared,
superbly recorded account as this, from
Lontano, was very much to be welcomed.
Everything said then still holds true:
this is as good an account of Boulez’s
groundbreaking work as you are likely
to encounter, even from the great man
himself.
The piece has a quite
novel ensemble consisting of mezzo-soprano
(or contralto), alto flute, viola, guitar,
vibraphone, xylorimba (a kind of xylophone)
and un-pitched percussion. The overall
effect is very much of African (or Balinese)
sonorities meeting the rigorous intellect
of central Europe. There are nine interlocking
movements, four of which feature the
surreal poems of René Char, though
Boulez does not set these in a conventional
fashion. Rather he treats the voice
as part of the whole group, with the
vocal lines emerging eerily from the
sometimes delicate, sometimes brittle
textures. In this respect the piece
comes across as a direct descendant
of Pierrot Lunaire, and it is
no coincidence that Boulez has often
programmed them together. He also goes
as far as direct quotation in the third
movement, ‘l’artisanat furieux’, where
the subtle counterpoint of voice and
solo flute is an intentional (and acknowledged)
reference to the seventh of Schoenberg’s
cycle, ‘Der Kranke Mond’. The intensely
complex rhythms and difficult internal
balances are superbly overcome by Martinez
and her players, who actually manage
the near impossible task of making this
music sound natural, unforced and even
eloquent. The sheer exoticism of the
sound world tickles the ear, and the
massive, arresting tones of the tam-tam
and gong that ceremonially close the
work are captured in demonstration quality
sound.
Complexity is also
the order of the day with the youthfully
aggressive, tersely percussive Piano
Sonata No.1. Marc Ponthus has all
the technique necessary to bring this
difficult music off the page, and he
is not afraid to temper some of Boulez’s
more extreme markings to try and bring
an element of warmth to the proceedings.
In fact I have rarely heard the extremes
of the piece carried off more persuasively,
the harsh toccata-like sections balanced
out by the delicate poetry of the quieter
passages. There is a budget alternative
here from Idil Biret on Naxos (coupled
logically with Sonatas 2 and
3), but it makes for possibly
more satisfying listening to have the
piano work balanced out with the ensemble
piece.
The liner notes (in
minuscule print) are adequate, and the
disc’s short measure is this time offset
by the budget price. Worth investigating
Tony Haywood
Lontano/Odaline de la Martinez