Frédéric CHOPIN (1810-1849)
Études, Op. 10, nos. 1-12 (1830-32) [27:49]
Études, Op. 25, nos. 1-12 (1835-37) [30:28]
Trois Nouvelles Études, Op. posth., KK905-17 (1839-40) [5:55]
Sonya Bach (piano),
rec. 2018, Wyastone Concert Hall, Wyastone Leys, UK
RUBICON RCD1042 [64:12]
I think Rubicon should have added ‘Complete’ to their title ‘Études’ for this CD. Not that their title is incorrect, but looking at the last ten issues or reissues of Chopin Études to appear I discovered only two, like Sonya Bach here, include the 3 New Études not published separately until after Chopin’s death, and these were reissues of relatively historic recordings by Alexander Brailowsky and Shura Cherkassky. These New Études are less display pieces than the others, or more accurately their art is to conceal art, and they have an agreeable fluency. The chief point to be made about the Études is that, while they hone for their players piano technique, they are also as music vivid character studies and as such many have been given nicknames which, while inauthentic, act as suggestions for the character interpreters may wish to reveal. So, I include them. From the 27 Études I have selected four from the op. 10, four from the Op. 25 and one of the 3 New Études that I feel are particularly striking and then compare Sonya Bach’s new performances with distinguished earlier releases from Murray Perahia, recorded 2001 (Sony SK 61885 download only, or in 6 CD set, 88843062432), Freddy Kempf, recorded 2003 (Bis BISSACD 1390) and Nikolai Lugansky, published 2005 (Erato 8573802282). I refer to all these players by their forenames, as to write of Bach’s Chopin risks historical confusion.
Études Op. 10, no. 1 in C major, Waterfall, makes a thrilling start. It’s unusual in having its sustained melody in the bass while the treble has continual cascades in semiquavers. There are two issues of interpretation. Firstly, the right-hand is marked legato and so you might picture the delicacy of a waterfall as well as its sheer quantity. Secondly, there are dynamic contrasts, another element of variation. Sonya gives us a firm but warm melody and well detailed, glittering cascades, the legato well marked but the dynamic contrasts less so. Murray’s account has more light and shade in intensity through dynamic contrasts, a creamier right hand against the left’s thundering strength. Nikolai has the most spectacular right hand, firm left and good inner detail. Freddy brings a sense of awe in the tensile strength of his left-hand melody and sharp edge to the right-hand cascades. In sum, Nikolai and Freddy are more exciting, Sonya and Murray easier to live with.
Op. 10, no. 3 in E major, Tristesse, is the best-known and most recorded of Chopin’s Études. No wonder: it’s a perfect legato melody over a gently rocking bass, full of affection yet also retrospection, hence the attribution of sadness, while the second section indicates the passionate experience that has brought it about. The line and progress evolves clearly and naturally, but there’s room for the performer to include some rubato to show the emotion, the longing behind recollection. On the other hand, there are many markings in the score, for instance in the Wiener Urtext Edition I’m using, to assist this. Sonya begins gentle and flowing, with a slightly offhand manner of recollection in which the acciaccaturas (tr. 3, 0:28, 0:30) that are the first disturbance within the second element of the song are somewhat edgy. Sonya brings a comely airiness to the apexes of the melody and a stately rise to its climax. Though the very beginning of the con forza (1:05) might have been a more emphatic change of attitude, her release from the climax is lovely, to a restrained, philosophic calm. The second section (1:30), poco piů animato, develops into a storm of passion with at its height both hands in the soprano or mezzo register and con bravura (2:26). Sonya here for me gives an impression of a gaze of agony, yet slightly removed from it, happy to find the shelter of the repose of the soft legatissimo return to the opening mood (2:39), even in the same impassioned motif now benign in low soprano register becoming a means of gradually returning to the opening melody.
Timing at 3:50, Murray is a deal faster than Sonya’s 4:25. The marking is Lento ma non troppo, but I wouldn’t say Sonya is too slow. Murray’s faster approach makes for an even smoother, relaxed flow, a smiling retrospection with less air to the apexes of the line, yet a notably still more animated second section more bitter, the con bravura more taut, but the soft legatissimo immediately back to the opening section mood. Freddy times at 4:14. His approach is more thoughtful and liberal in rubato. I like his playing the acciaccaturas as elegant grace notes. He floats the apexes of the melody and cogently manages the path to the climax, though he doesn’t release from it as beauteously as Sonya. His second section begins as a happy recollection of jocular energy. Then you can chart how this suddenly turns, with just two brief warnings, to torment. Freddy’s con bravura is icily stark while his soft legatissimo is a reposeful resumption of the easy but also ruminative life of the opening. Freddy’s is an account full of character. Nikolai’s is the most gentle, beautifully shaped account. Timing at 4:01, his quite fast tempo helps with the smoothness. His opening is relaxed yet caring, the melodic line caressed. Though the acciaccaturas are crunched a bit, his sympathetic supporting line ensures a fundamental calm. By underplaying the con forza he lets the opening section climax evolve naturally. Similarly, he allows the second section to progress as if spontaneously until a suddenly fraught con bravura. He presses on at the legatissimo, not really softening until the return of the opening section.
Op. 10, no. 6 in E flat minor, Lacrimosa, is a melody of more sustained sorrow, constantly ‘shadowed’ by a running figure in pairings of six semiquavers, sometimes in the bass and sometimes in the alto register, in effect the physical presence of a second character. It’s the most desolate of this set of Études. This soft Andante melody is marked con molto espressione and Sonya interprets this as a listless yet nevertheless glowing beauty. The ‘shadow’ is sempre legatissimo and later sempre legato, Sonya’s smoothness here adding to the impression of listless floating; but the sudden pesante ‘shadow’ following the end of the first part of the melody (tr. 6, 0:49) briefly reveals a chasm of depths. Sonya shows how the rising tessitura of the ‘shadow’ creates a potentially choking oppression. The hint of release doesn’t arrive until the sostenuto C sharp apex (2:39) of the final melodic line, only confirmed by the resolution at the closing note. This sostenuto and final note are well nuanced by Sonya and my artists for comparison, albeit they otherwise differ.
Murray, timing at 2:20 to Sonya’s 3:00, is more Allegretto than Andante. This makes the melodic line and progression clear but the ‘shadow’ subservient and thereby less disturbing. Freddy, timing at 4:27, is more Adagietto than Andante. This makes for more bleakness: a fixation on a ‘shadow’ that seems ever sadly wandering and a laboured melody whose shape is difficult to discern and appreciate. Nikolai, timing at 3:49, is perhaps between Andante and Adagietto. He does keep the melodic line firm, albeit somewhat stiffly shaped, and the ‘shadow’ clearly present and remorseless with well shaded dynamic contrasts which add to the drama. So, Sonya’s account is my favourite.
Op. 10, no. 12 in C minor, Revolutionary, is the most spectacular of the Études, a display of fanatical inspiration, of which a revolutionary is just one example, an Allegro con fuoco, its searing melody delivered appassionato with ubiquitous left-hand legatissimo arpeggios in semiquavers. Sonya’s account is stark and intense, of heroic tautness until the melody at last goes into repose, only to burst forth again in a final, punishing flourish. Sonya gives a powerful, gripping performance, at 2:21 the fastest of the four I’m considering. Her left-hand legatissimo is a touch heavy but her right-hand melody has good impact and momentum. Dynamic contrast is less strong, e.g. the second entry of the melody (tr. 12, 0:31) is soft, but not the marked sotto voce the other players make more telling. Murray’s account (2:29) has the most legatissimo left hand and fine melodic shaping but lacks Sonya’s punch. Freddy’s interpretation (2:38) admirably combines steely toughness and gritty articulation of melody with a left hand that has both lightness and momentum. Nikolai’s playing (2:41) finds both clarity and bite in left-hand articulation alongside intensity of melodic line.
Turning to the Op. 25 set, no. 1 in A flat major, Aeolian harp, is worthy of its nickname as it features arpeggios simultaneously in both hands, the gorgeous melody being picked out as the first note in the right hand of its ever present six-semiquaver clusters and also partially in the left hand in its second part, the dynamics swelling and ebbing all the while. Sonya presents this Allegro sostenuto in a creamy, benign flow. For me, her top G flat climax (tr. 13, 1:48), though firm, could be more of a highlight that the marking appassionato suggests, but it’s very clear and evolves naturally. I also feel her pp leggierissimo close might be more shimmering, though I admit of the four players I’m listening to only Murray is obediently restrained. Faster at 2:11 to Sonya’s 2:39, Murray foregoes her relaxation and warmth for a deliciously lighter touch, the melody very distinct and more detail also noticeably picked out in the left hand in its second part. Murray’s climax is more spotlit. Freddy, timing at 2:46, is slower, which brings a more thoughtful perspective and sounds a bit stiff if you’ve just listened to Murray. What Freddy gains are clearer dynamic contrasts, fine balance, and detail throughout of both hands and a clearly appassionato climax. The best climax, however, is achieved by Nikolai who, timing at 2:31, achieves for me the most satisfying blend of thoughtful approach yet momentum too, squaring the inherent contradiction of the Allegro sostenuto marking. Dynamic contrasts are marked and convincing and he achieves lovely nuances through a little rubato.
No. 5, in E minor, Wrong note, is a scherzo and trio. The scherzo, marked vivace, leggiero and scherzando, is a study in rhythmic displacement, when semiquaver-plus-dotted quaver rhythm in the right hand is later met by the reverse rhythm simultaneously in the left hand and later still a stream of grace notes thrown into the mix. You could say a bucking bronco like activity, robustly revealed by Sonya. The trio, piů lento, also leggiero, features a luxuriantly sunny E major theme in the baritone register, ben tenuto. This melody comes with warmth from Sonya yet also an elaborate and energetic topping, so a contrast between the laid-back melody and its accompaniment. Sonya displays the whole as an odd, restless yet memorable piece whose coda is grandiose sonority.
Timing at 2:50 to Sonya’s 3:06, Murray is lighter throughout: in the scherzo a miniature bronco and a clearer, more elegant left-hand accompaniment; in the trio a theme still warmer than Sonya’s and neater topping. Freddy, at 3:21, is slower and while his scherzo feigns a miniaturist approach, his juxtapositions of rhythm between the hands are more muscular. His trio is dreamier and topping mercurial, but he also has time to spotlight the development of the trio theme’s presentation. Nikolai, at 3:27 is slower still, which results in more marked breadth to the trio theme, contrasted with a lighter, yet still shining accompaniment. His scherzo, however, has lots of bounce which gives it a comic feel.
No. 7, in C sharp minor, Cello, is marked Lento and has the most tortured, angular line of the Études. The melody is ‘voiced’ by close interchange between the hands, in effect alternating between baritone and mezzo registers, thus the nickname’s reference to the wide range of the cello. Moreover, this use of two ‘voices’ encourages you to envisage a relationship in torment. Within the prevailing sorrow there are heart-wrenching recalls of past happiness. Sonya depicts all this vividly. The writing for the left hand is like a very demonstrative man, while the right-hand music clings onto the hope that happier times might return. In the course of this some catharsis seems to take place as the piece ends less bleak than it began.
Timing at 5:04, Murray is slightly faster than Sonya’s 5:11, but seems slower because his opening is more meditative than anguished, the couple’s statements more thought through and deliberate in a rather more formal interchange. The parties respond to one another and there’s the sense of a heartfelt scena with eloquent contributions from both. Murray creates moments of silence and space for reflection in a more moving, less optimistic account than Sonya’s. Timing at 6:20, Freddy’s approach is considerably more expansive. His opening is both stern and thoughtful, the two ‘voices’ clearly distinct but the man more spotlit and forceful, the woman patiently enduring. When she finally remonstrates Freddy’s man explodes, more brutally than Sonya’s and Freddy’s woman responds with soft, pearly pathos in an account of greater dynamic contrasts and display of melodic detail. You feel not a note is unregarded, all in stately measure. With the halting pause near the end you sense the relationship is inexorably broken. Nikolai times at 5:18, close to Sonya and I like his consistent flow, even for the later decline of the relationship. From the start Nikolai brings us an equal partnership and in the early echoing one of another you feel a kinship, balance and gentleness and enjoy the focus on happy times. Nikolai’s is for me the most striking fff climax (tr. 19, 1:57 in Sonya’s recording), the most vivid and purest memory of the relationship. The rest is a bitter exchange, but both parties retain their integrity.
No. 12, in C minor, Ocean, the marking Molto allegro, con fuoco, is for me a new sound world. A big sound from the start and from Sonya. Arpeggios simultaneously in both hands and the melody comes from the first semiquaver of the four groups of four in every bar. This creates a sense of great power and density, wave flurries everywhere. And a heroic quality about it all. I think of Sibelius, more than 60 years later. There’s some light and shade, such as the subsidiary theme and somewhat softening of dynamic (tr. 24, 0:40); but by 1:20 we’re back to full strength and at 2:01 a noble peroration with fff close. Sonya fully catches the inspiration that comes from witnessing an irresistible manic force.
Murray responds to this in, for him, an unusually tougher manner: a gritty left hand and strong right one curling wave tops and always the feel of straining higher. Freddy goes for more spectacle: power and weight in the left hand, glitter in the right, with more attention to light and shade too. Most vivid of all is Nikolai, with the massive strength that results from a secure left and glowing right hand.
From the Three New Études I have chosen No. 3 in D flat. Mainly in running quavers with grace notes, this is the most animated with a legato ‘soprano’ voice blended with a staccato mezzo. As a bonus there’s a whiff of the well-known central theme of the Fantasy-impromptu in C sharp minor, op. 66 (tr. 27, 0:20) which appears thrice. The occasional leaps to the stratosphere are a surprise, as is the flamboyant coda. Sonya finds an easy bouncing conviviality where Nikolai is neatly rhythmic but cooler in effect. Sonya keeps everything decorously small scale but might have brought a little more contrasting sparkle to the high-rise coda and closing two ff chords. Nikolai does this and makes the mid-point top G flat a climax where Sonya is content to take it in her stride as a pleasant, unexpected sky view (0:53). Murray’s and Freddy’s discs don’t include the Three New Études.
In sum, Chopin’s Études offer much scope for variety of interpretation and the warmly recorded Sonya Bach acquits herself pretty well in distinguished company and for me gives the finest account of Op. 10, no. 6.
Michael Greenhalgh
