Enescu was apparently as accomplished a pianist as a violinist but it has
taken a long time to get his work for the piano into focus
(see
survey by Evan Dickerson). This set appears to be the first to
contain all his piano works, and it claims several first recordings, as well
as one work, the Sonatensatz, which was discovered only after Noel Malcolm
published his indispensable
handbook to the composer in 1990. Indeed, the history of Enescu’s
compositions is one of works of which some were completed, some left
unfinished or sketched, and some which were lost only to turn up decades
later. This was partly because of the political vicissitudes through which
he lived but also because he was a meticulous craftsman who repeatedly pored
over and adjusted his works until he was satisfied. An Enescu score is
remarkable for the detail with which he notates his intentions and it
presents a corresponding challenge to his interpreters.
Of the three discs, the first finds him still finding his way in the world
of
fin-de-siècle Paris. The first piano suite,
Dans le style
ancien, is the eighteenth century seen through late nineteenth century
eyes, like Busoni’s versions of Bach. Enescu was sixteen when he wrote it.
The gem here is the Fugue, which aroused the admiration of Ravel. The
Prelude and
Scherzo are also Brahmsian but with a demonic
touch in the
Scherzo which rather suggests Liszt. The
Barcarolle is closer to Chopin, as one might expect, with a long
melody which unfolds over a repeating bass with many subtle modulations. The
other shorter pieces on this first disc are closer to the Liszt of the
Années de pèlerinage. The
Prelude and
Fugue in C
date from rather later, and might have been intended for the second piano
suite. By this time he has found his idiom, which has accepted some
influence from the French impressionists into a basically Germanic
language.
That second suite, subtitled
Des cloches sonores, opens the
second disc. The titles suggest a suite by Debussy or Ravel, and it has been
compared to Ravel’s
Tombeau de Couperin. Enescu acknowledged the
influence, but with his tongue in his cheek since Ravel’s suite dates from
fourteen years later than his own. A more plausible influence is that of
Fauré, whose pupil he had been. The
Sarabande is far more energetic
and full-blooded than the corresponding piece by Debussy and it rises to a
Lisztian climax. The
Pavane is the most interesting piece with its
very free and flexible solo melodic line above a subtle and varying
accompaniment. This is apparently close to the kind of Romanian folk-music
known as the
doina.
The
Nocturne is a long and somewhat unsatisfactory work, with
outer sections fairly close to what one might expect from the title, though
quite heavily written. There's a sinister middle section which quite
belies the title. Enescu did not publish this work, perhaps because he was
not satisfied with it, but it anticipates some of the effects of his later
music in its rhythmic complexity.
The
Pièces Impromptues pour piano were also unpublished,
in this case because Enescu lost the manuscript, which turned up only after
his death. This is not really a suite, though it is sometimes referred to as
the third piano suite, but more a set of individual pieces. In these works
the Lisztian idiom has become modified in the direction of Ravel. These are
charming works, very varied in their moods. Perhaps the most interesting is
the final
Carillon nocturne, in which Enescu captures the sound of
bells heard across mountains with note clusters, unlike Ravel’s
La
vallée des cloches but anticipating not only the end of Stravinsky’s
Les noces, with its final bell sounds evoked by four pianos, but
also Messiaen’s
Noël from the
Vingt Regards.
The third disc opens with another discovery. This
Sonatensatz is
the first version of the first movement of the Piano Sonata Op. 24. No. 1,
which was found in the Enescu Museum in Bucharest in 1993. This is a dark,
brooding work, difficult to follow because of the constant development of
its principal themes and restless modulation. However, it was well worth
rescuing, though one can understand why the composer rejected it.
Between this and the two sonatas is the tiny
Pièce sur le nom de
Fauré, written to honour the composer for his seventy-seventh birthday.
It is a touching tribute, short and characterful, and would be a good piece
for pianists to try, except that, like most of the works in this set, it is
not in print.
We come then finally to the two big sonatas, Enescu’s most important works
for the medium. They are very different. The first sonata begins with a
powerful movement, reworked from the earlier
Sonatensatz, terser
and more varied but no less haunting. The Presto which follows is a kind of
Prokofievan scherzo. The finale is an Andante which draws on Romanian folk
music, with ambiguous tonality and bell sounds.
There is no Sonata Op. 24 No. 2. Enescu said he had it in his head but he
never wrote it down and after his death only a few sketches were found.
The third sonata is in contrast to the first. It is predominantly
light-hearted with a first movement which skitters and glitters and jumps
about. The slow movement features a long, lyrical and rhythmically irregular
line which is festooned with decorations and ornaments. The printed page –
for this work is actually in print – is quite amazing in the complexity of
the writing and the precision of the notation and instructions. It is a most
beautiful piece. The finale is a kind of delicate toccata, full of verve and
excitement with a good deal of use of fast repeated notes.
The young Romanian pianist Raluca Stirbat has made a particular study of
the composer, including writing a doctoral dissertation on his piano works,
so she is well placed to record them complete. She clearly knows them
thoroughly and from the inside. Her technique is up to their considerable
technical demands. She does not quite have the magical feathery touch of
Lipatti in his famous recording of the third sonata but she has clearly
listened to it and has allowed herself a similar flexibility though without
simply copying him. She is decently recorded and writes her own, very
helpful notes. Her main competitor is Luisa Borac in some well-received Avie
discs, issued separately (
vol. 1;
vol. 2). Borac omits most of the early works on Stirbat’s set but
adds a piano version of the third orchestral suite, titled
Villageoise. I would love to hear a pianist such as Hamelin,
Anderszewski or Tiberghien tackle the two sonatas in particular but for
someone who wants a complete survey of Enescu’s fascinating piano works this
will do very well.
Stephen Barber
Enescu on Hänssler
Complete works for violin and piano
Complete works for cello and piano
Detailed contents
CD 1 [61:41]
First piano suite, ‘Dans le style ancien’, in G minor Op. 3 No. 1 (1897)
[17:39]
Prélude et Scherzo in F sharp minor (1896) [9:57]
Barcarolle in B flat major (1897) [5:04]
La Fileuse in D major (1897) [4:45]
Impromptu in A flat major (1898) [4:30]
Regrets in G flat major (1898) [3:53]
Impromptu in C major (1900) [5:48]
Prélude et Fugue in C major (1903) [10:00]
CD 2 [73:38]
Second piano suite, ‘Des cloches sonores’, in D major Op. 10 No. 2 (1903)
[22:38]
Nocturne in D flat major (1907) [17:11]
Pièces Impromptues Op. 18 (1913/1916) [33:49]
CD 3 [66:00]
Sonatensatz in F sharp minor (1912)
Pièce sur le nom de Fauré (1922) [1:50]
Sonata in F sharp minor Op. 24 No.1 (1924) [24:12]
Sonata in D major Op. 24 No. 3 (1935) [23:17]
