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Having been sent the
last three volumes of Joyce Hatto’s
Brahms cycle I couldn’t resist starting
from the end, with that extraordinary
series of miniatures in which a rejuvenated
Brahms somehow summed up and synthesized
his life’s work.
I have encountered
Joyce Hatto’s op.118 before, as a "filler"
to her version of the second Piano Concerto.
On that disc there are actually two
versions of no.4, the second recorded
the following day. Apparently Hatto
was not sure which she preferred. She
has now resolved the matter by recording
a third version! (Lucky the artist whose
recording company allows such a thing).
I take it the matter at issue was not
the basic interpretation, which does
not perceptibly change, but of making
Brahms’s canons clear (which they sometimes
are not in the first version) without
being academic about it (as happens
at times in the second version). I hope
she is now satisfied, for the new version
seems to strike a perfect balance between
clarity of line and dark passion. In
all three versions she makes a diminuendo
in the final tragic descent (bb.127-8)
instead of holding Brahms’s forte implacably
to the bitter end; otherwise it’s a
marvellous performance.
After hearing Hatto
in the complete Mozart Sonatas plus
generous helpings of Beethoven, Brahms,
Chopin, Liszt and others, I thought
I had her musical personality fairly
well mapped out, a warmly musical, unhurried
guide to a wide range of repertoire,
always acutely aware of the style of
the music she is playing; lacking, maybe,
the ultimate transport which the greatest
artists can give us but also avoiding
the pitfalls to which they are sometimes
prone.
It was somewhat to
my surprise, then, that, after a rather
slowly rolled first chord, the first
Capriccio of op.116 tears away and is
taken throughout as something of an
exercise in rubato, impetuous and dashing
but slightly unsettling. The last Capriccio
of the group is extraordinarily fast,
requiring a big adjustment (where none
is marked) for the middle section. Again,
thrilling but a little disconcerting.
The other fast piece of the group, no.3,
is impetuous but more controlled.
In contrast with this
the A minor Intermezzo, no.2, is wonderfully
poised, its sad lullaby allowed to bloom
and sing at a tempo which allows for
no self-indulgence. Much the same could
be said for no.4, while no.5 (an incredibly
difficult piece to bring off) is about
as perfect as it ever will be in this
world, somehow suspended in mid-air,
its feet never touching the ground.
Whereas no.6 is rather slow and heavy
for an "andantino", exaggerated
in its rallentandos, and sometimes marks
up Brahms’s dynamics. On the other hand,
the way the middle section steals in
out of nowhere makes up for much – a
wonderful moment.
It was at this point
that I began to study the recording
dates given above and realised that
nos.2 and 5, together with op.117/2,
another extraordinarily beautiful performance,
and the op.118/4 I have already discussed,
are brand new performances. Hatto was
surely in a truly inspired mood that
day, achieving, I would say, true greatness
as an interpreter.
In September 1997 she
seems to have been in a rather wayward
mood, daring and exploratory but sometimes
going over the top. Whereas the rest,
from 1998, are wonderfully satisfying
in their perfectly judged tempi, warm
but limpid textures and natural phrasing.
But they don’t quite have that something-or-other
which in February 2004 transformed the
wonderfully satisfying into the truly
great.
I also thought I had
Concert Artist’s recording techniques
fairly well mapped out, warm and pleasing
but just slightly opaque and two-dimensional.
This remains true of the 1998 offerings;
the 1997 ones are surprisingly brilliant,
almost to a fault, while the 2004 ones
have an added bloom and lifelike quality
which bodes well for their future work.
All things considered,
this looks like a nearly ideal way to
get this essential late Brahms, richly
satisfying with some provoking moments
and some great ones thrown in. But what,
some readers will be saying, about Julius
Katchen? For a great many critics and
a great many years the Katchen cycle
(on Decca) has been looked on as the
supreme Brahms on disc. I have to say
I can’t stand it, for every phrase is
super-interpreted, mauled around and
pulled out of shape. Just occasionally
I have allowed myself to be carried
away and have appreciated hearing the
music apparently improvised on the spot,
before my very ears. In a concert it
might have been enthralling, but as
a disc to repeat again and again? If
you love Katchen I suppose you’re going
to find Hatto a bit penny plain, but
in that case I venture to suggest you
must love Katchen more than you love
Brahms.
Christopher Howell
see also
review by Jonathan Woolf
The
Concert Artist Catalogue is available
from MusicWeb
JOYCE
HATTO - A Pianist of Extraordinary
Personality and Promise - Comment and
Interview by Burnett James
Joyce Hatto (piano) 