Franz LISZT (1811-1886)
 Années de pèlerinage: Première année – Suisse, S. 160 (1848-1854)
 Chapelle de Guillaume Tell
    [5:22]
 Au lac de Wallenstadt
    [3:27]
 Pastorale
    [1:31]
 Au bord d’une source
    [3:48]
 Orage
    [4:12]
 Vallée d’Obermann
    [12:45]
 Eglogue
    [3:16]
 Le mal du pays
    [5:56]
 Les cloches de Genève
    [6:44]
 Deux Légendes, S. 175 (1863)
 No. 2: St. François de Paule marchant sur les flots [8:14]
 Francesco Piemontesi (piano)
 rec. 2017, Auditorio Stelio Molo RSI, Lugano, Switzerland
 Reviewed as a 16-bit press download
 Pdf booklet included
 ORFEO C944182I
    [55:00]
    We all have them – musical blind spots, that is – and Liszt’s orchestral 
	output is one of mine. His solo piano works are another matter, and it’s 
	good to see so many fine pianists tackling this challenging repertoire. 
	Devotees will no doubt be aware of Leslie Howard’s mammoth 98-disc set (Hyperion)
    and the still unfolding series from Naxos, with, among others, William 
	Wolfram, Steven Mayer and the late-lamented Joel Hastings. There are also 
	splendid single albums from Risto-Matti Marin (Alba)
    and Gábor Farkas (Steinway); both are fine artists with a clear and compelling affinity for these
    virtuosic scores.
 
    Some critics maintain Liszt was better at transcribing the works of others
    than he was at crafting his own, but one only need hear the astonishing
    range and sophistication of, say, his Années de pèlerinage (Years of
    Pilgrimage) to realise how wide of the mark that is. These three
    collections, the first inspired by the composer’s travels in Switzerland,
    the second and third by his time in Italy, have done fairly well on record.
    There are high-profile accounts of Suisse from the likes of Stephen
    Hough (Hyperion) and Lazar Berman (Deutsche Grammophon), not to mention
    Jorge Bolet, who has always been sans pareil in this piece (Decca).
 
    Enter the Swiss pianist Francesco Piemontesi (b. 1983), whose 
	recording of Mozart’s Piano concertos 25 and 26, with Andrew Manze and the 
	Scottish Chamber Orchestra, was described by Michael Greenhalgh as ‘a breath 
	of fresh air’ (Linn). Also, Jonathan Woolf was pretty positive about Piemontesi’s 
	pairing of the Schumann and Dvořák concertos, with the late Jiří Bělohlávek 
	and the BBC Symphony Orchestra (Naïve). That’s most encouraging, but how does he cope with Liszt’s S. 160, a
    very exposed, often ground-breaking score?
 
    Eight of the nine sections of Suisse are revisions of pieces from
    the earlier Album d'un voyageur: Impressions et Poésies, some more
extensively altered than others. Piemontesi’s    Chapelle de Guillaume Tell, both hefty and poetic, certainly makes
    for a stirring start. Goodness, this is playing of real authority and
    insight, manifested in plenty of inner detail and a thrilling sense of
    drama. And although I’ve not always been kind about Orfeo recordings in the
    past, this one, full, warm and ideally balanced, has astonishing presence
    and power, the treble refined, the bass firm and sonorous.
 
    Piemontesi’s Au lac de Wallenstadt is beautifully shaped, its
    burbling beat clean and clear. I was enchanted by the ease and naturalness
    of his playing, which makes the otherwise spontaneous Hough seem a little
    stilted at times. As much as I enjoy the latter’s Suisse, Piemontesi
    outpoints him at almost every turn. There’s no doubting the virtuosity of
    Hough’s Liszt, but it lacks the swell and surge that his Swiss rival brings
    to this music. Take the darkly turbulent Orage (Storm), for example,
    where the latter fuses formidable technique with a deep-seated passion that
    few can match.
 
Piemontesi does charm and sensitivity, too; witness the sun-dappled little    Pastorale and the shimmer and sparkle of Au bord d’une source. His colour palette is both subtle and striking, his control of
    dynamics exemplary; what’s more, it’s all rendered in ravishing sound.
    Indeed, if the quality of this 16-bit download is anything to go by, the
    high-res one should be a sonic treat. But it’s the playing that deserves
    the highest praise, the substantial Vallée d’Obermann imbued with a
    strong, conflicting character that realises – in full – the expressive
    reach and harmonic ambition of this masterpiece.
 
    The very best piano recordings transport listeners into the hall or studio,
    allowing them to eavesdrop on the performance, as it were. This is one
such. I really appreciated the intimacy of Piemontesi’s Eclogue and    Le mal du pays, although some of the dynamic contrasts are a mite
overdone. I also feel he strives a little too hard for effect in    Les cloches de Genève, but these are a minor quibbles when it’s all
    so feelingly done. The programme ends with a suitably flamboyant account of
    the second of Liszt’s Deux Légendes. As with Orage,
    Piemontesi is uncompromising in his control of Liszt’s grander moments, his
    blend of body and detail perfectly matched by sound that’s firm and
    fearless.
 
    At the outset I was pretty confident this pretender wouldn’t dislodge
    Bolet’s crown, but minutes into this new album I began to have my doubts.
    That Decca recording, made in Kingsway Hall in 1984, sounds as good as I
    remembered it, but I’d quite forgotten how pellucid – and patrician – the
    playing is. Unlike Piemontesi, Bolet opts for a seamless, finely calibrated
    approach that makes rivals – Hough especially – seem almost gauche by
    comparison. For all his interior loveliness, Bolet whips up quite a
    terrific storm, but it’s the peal of those Genevan bells that really takes
    my breath away (as it did when I first heard this CD thirty years ago).
 
    As John France intimated in his
    
        review
    
    of the Hough recording, there are many ways to play this music, and the
    startling – often revelatory – contrast between Piemontesi and Bolet is
    ample proof of that. In this spirit of inclusion, I’d still recommend
    Hough’s Suisse – coupled with two operatic paraphrases – although,
    ultimately, his rivals are richer and more rewarding. As for Bolet, my
    admiration for his performance is undimmed; ditto John Pellowe’s splendid
    recording. But, such is the distinction, consistency and insight of
    Piemontesi’s Suisse – plus the glorious sound – that I’d urge all
    Lisztians to invest in both.
 
    Outstanding performances, perfectly pitched and beautifully caught;
    Piemontesi is a pianist to watch.
 
    Dan Morgan