This Elatus reissue
of a mid-1990s Erato disc is something
of a mixed bag. I suppose the first
positive thing that struck me was the
fact that all these major late pieces
have been squeezed on to one (upper)
mid-price disc, which is actually pretty
rare in the current catalogue. It relies
on fairly brisk tempi and the odd missed
repeat to do it, but makes excellent
value, as most of the competition splits
them over two discs and adds extra items.
Mind you, two of the best rivals are
on a Philips Duo and an EMI Double Forte,
so the price difference is minimal,
and you do get the extras, usually the
Op.79 Rhapsodies and Eight Pieces Op.76.
The playing itself
is more of a problem. Grimaud is a volatile
and exciting artist at her best, sounding
at times like one of her acknowledged
influences, Martha Argerich. As anyone
who admires Argerich will realise, it
depends on the music as to how successful
this temperamental approach is. In much
of this late Brahms, the composer is
in reflective, even melancholy, mood
so sudden shifts of gear and wilful
rubato can have a destabilising effect
on the structure of the music. At other
times, when the younger keyboard lion
is being celebrated, the results are
suitably rousing. Take my favourite
set, Op.118, where the opening
piece, rather misleadingly called Intermezzo,
has an almost Lisztian bravura that
is truly molto appassionato,
as marked. The second Intermezzo,
however, is pulled around so much as
to distort the overall shape, and she
indulges her favourite habit of splitting
the hands (usually right before left)
which becomes irritating on repeated
listening. Turning to my benchmark,
Emanuel Ax (Sony) is to find a near
perfect blend of tenderness and wistful
grace, musicality allied to sheer good
taste. I also find my other benchmark,
Stephen Kovacevich (Philips, his later,
1983 digital version) to possess a more
convincing blend of virtuosity and poetry.
But there are good
things on this disc. The very opening
Capriccio of Op.116 really
is presto energico, and Grimaud
makes the most of the tricky, syncopated
accents. I also like the closing Rhapsody
Op.119, where this big-boned, beefy
approach pays the most dividends. But
the listener simply has to be warned
that the more wistful, yearning qualities
that inhabit so much of this music are
not so much ignored as distorted. It’s
almost as if late Brahms has been filtered
through Rachmaninov, or even Scriabin.
The recording is good,
though a fairly bright piano and close
balance, coupled with Grimaud’s forcefulness,
produce some harsh fortissimos. Good
notes from David Brodbeck. Perhaps at
the Apex budget price, this would have
been a real contender; in this more
expensive bracket, definitely one to
sample first.
Tony Haywood
Hélène Grimaud (piano) 