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              CD: MDT 
               
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            Fryderyk CHOPIN 
              (1810-1849)  
              Late Masterpieces  
              Barcarolle in F sharp major, Op 60 (1846) [8:30]  
              Mazurka in F minor, Op 63 No 2 (1846-47) [1:42]  
              Mazurka in A minor, Op 67 No 4 (1846-47) [2:46]  
              Mazurka in C sharp minor, Op 63 No 3 (1846-47) [2:03]  
              Mazurka in F minor, Op 68 No 4 (1846-47) [1:40]  
              Polonaise-Fantasy in A flat major, Op 61  [13:40]  
              Nocturne in B major, Op 62 No 1 (1846) [6:44]  
              Nocturne in E major, Op 62 No 2 (1846)  [5:47]  
              Piano Sonata No 3 in B minor, Op 58 (1844) [25:50]  
              Berceuse in D flat major, Op 57 (1843) [4:10]  
                Stephen Hough (piano)  
              rec. May 2009, St George’s, Brandon Hill, Bristol  
                
              HYPERION CDA67764 [73:08]   
              Sound Samples  
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                  Stephen Hough’s Chopin is highly persuasive. It’s 
                  not heaven-storming, but nor is it cool. It manages to project 
                  this carefully chosen ‘late’ selection with thoughtful 
                  intelligence and with tonal allure. But, again, it’s not 
                  beauty for beauty’s sake - it’s art for art’s 
                  sake. There may be the occasional quibble over tempo decisions, 
                  or over a sense of under-projection, but these are localised 
                  decisions and in general one can listen knowing that Hough’s 
                  bearing is devoted wholly toward the music-making, that his 
                  is an agency of refined control.  
                     
                  I would not dissent if perhaps auditors found that some of the 
                  more rich early chordal passages in the Barcarolle could 
                  be played more passionately. But we find as the music progresses 
                  that Hough ensures that the variousness of mood and metre and 
                  texture are well accounted for, that his tone is rich, that 
                  he knows when to hold back and when to allow a sense of flow 
                  to course through the music, to allow it to swim freely, unmediated 
                  by regularity. This is not to imply excessive freedom. Equally 
                  when one turns to the two selected Nocturnes one finds elegance 
                  of phrasing, evenness of trills, and a truly poetic spirit. 
                  Again, one might quibble with the initial tempo of the E major, 
                  but it does quicken, and the results are still laudable.  
                     
                  There are similar qualities audible in the Polonaise-Fantasy 
                  in A flat major. Unexaggerated and controlled, clear sighted, 
                  acute in his use (or abjuring) of the pedal, he again demonstrates 
                  that his is a view unchained by either convention or tradition. 
                  It is personal but central Chopin playing. He brings gentle 
                  wit to bear to the A minor Mazurka; charming little pauses, 
                  a bright ethos, like a glass held up to sunlight.  
                     
                  In the more sustained challenges of the B minor sonata he proves 
                  redoubtable. His measured Maestoso, the glittering scherzo, 
                  the refulgent but not overblown lyricism of the Largo 
                  all point to a performer of self contained assurance and communicative 
                  spirit. If one senses that there is an element in this music-making 
                  of projecting cautiously, then I think I would disagree. Hough’s 
                  aesthetic here is not toward the impulsive but it is toward 
                  impulse; he doesn’t embrace the volatile but he is alive; 
                  he doesn’t cultivate expressive latitude but does employ 
                  pervasive rubati; he is not unduly rhapsodic but he is lyrical. 
                  It’s, on its own terms, cogent, and logical - without 
                  being predictable or mathematical.  
                     
                  This is a fine recording, well engineered, and made at St George’s, 
                  Brandon Hill, Bristol. Hough has written his own booklet notes, 
                  including a whimsical explanation for the cover artwork. His 
                  playing is artful and sympathetic, avoiding excess and celebrating 
                  instead measured lyricism.  
                     
                  Jonathan Woolf    
                 
                  
                  
                  
                  
                  
                 
                
               
             
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