Hungarian Melody
Johannes BRAHMS (1833-1897)
Hungarian dance No.14 (1879, arr. Theodor Kirchner) [2:44]
Variations on a Hungarian Song Op.21 No.2 (1854) [8:32]
Variations in D minor from String Sextet op.18 (1860) [12:35]
Zigeunerlieder Op.103 (1887-88, arr. Theodor Kirchner) [17:45]
Franz LISZT (1811-1886)
Hungarian Rhapsody No.17 in D minor s.244 (1882) [3:14]
Hungarian Rhapsody No.18 in F sharp minor s.244 (1885)
Hungarian Rhapsody No.19 in D minor s.244 (1885) [11:02]
Franz SCHUBERT (1797-1828)
Hungarian Melody in B minor D.817 (1824) [4:31]
Sofja Gülbadamova (piano)
rec. 2017 at Rundfunkhaus, St. Petersburg
HÄNSSLER CLASSIC HC19037 [63:43]
Sofja Gülbadamova gives us a delightfully interesting programme representing three composers with Hungarian links, quite deep links for two of them. Liszt is perhaps the most obvious choice, Hungarian by birth and with a large part of his output devoted to music of his homeland, both original and in transcription; his Hungarian Rhapsodys are just the familiar tip of a very large iceberg. Brahms of course wrote his Hungarian dances but there is also the Variations on a Hungarian Song and Zigeunerlieder recorded here as well as more gypsy songs Op.112 and the finale of his Piano quartet Op.25. His friendship with the Hungarian violinist Eduard Reményi prompted much of his interest in this colourful music. Schubert, whose Hungarian melody closes the programme, spent some time in Szelesz (now in Slovakia but part of the Kingdom of Hungary at the time) teaching the daughters of Count Esterházy. Much of the interest for me is that the obvious choices are not always made. Liszt is represented by three of the later, less often programmed Rhapsodys and I am not aware that the Kirchner transcriptions have been previously recorded.
The disc opens with Kirchner's transcription of the 14th of the Hungarian dances, a noble and restrained opening. This restraint is carried into the next item, the Variations on a Hungarian song which I found a little heavy handed at the opening. The theme is marked allegro and the booklet describes them as powerful and showy; I wanted more rustic swagger to demonstrate this. Though the pace picks up for the graceful second variation and third, with its devilish left hand, this is not an overtly virtuosic reading of the work. There is much to admire; the charm of the seventh variation's quasi-minuet (a somewhat limping minuet with the interchanging triple/quadruple time rhythm of the theme) and the tranquil mood of the eighth for example but I find myself turning to Katchen or Plowright (BIS-2127
review) for their more visceral playing. I feel that without this vigour these variations can sound a bit dour especially with the essentially serious Variations in D minor following close on their heels. I preferred Gülbadamova in this longer set of variations, Brahms' transcription of the 2nd movement of his String Sextet op.18, although I am not sure what the Hungarian connection is in this. The Zigeunerlieder are a different matter; energetic and vibrant, Gülbadamova really pleases here. Again the arranger is Theodore Kirchner, a friend of Brahms and the Schumanns. He transcribed much of Brahms' music including both sets of Zigeunerlieder and produced the vocal reduction of the German requiem. Very little of his own output (and there hundreds of miniatures) has been recorded though I note that John Kersey has recorded his transcriptions of Robert Schumann songs (Romantic discoveries, not reviewed). Kirchner transcribed all of the Zigeunerlieder op.103 but Gülbadamova has chosen to omit the first number and add touches of her own, considering the Kirchner a little too simple. Her additions are welcome and she plays the pieces with gusto. They come across as miniature Hungarian dances though are generally shorter, mostly just over a minute. Wisst ihr, wann mein Kindchen is a choice morsel with its simple charm and energy while Brauner Bursche führt zum Tanze is a rambunctious dance, the swarthy young man in his spurs whirling his fair maiden around to the melody of the csardas. I love the scherzo-like quality of Röslein dreie in der Reihe and the stridency of Weit und breit schaut niemand mich an. The tenth of the set, the tranquil Mond verhüllt sein Angesicht has something of the quality of the late piano pieces in this guise whilst the final number, Rote Abendwolken ziehen, in which the glowing of the evening sky reflects the passion in the lover's heart is a heady and energetic dance. Gülbadamova is always aware that these are song transcriptions and emphasises the lyrical elements.
The late Liszt Hungarian Rhapsodies, numbers 16-19, are not a complete departure from the mood of the earlier more familiar Rhapsodies though Liszt concentrates the form in the case of numbers 17 and 18. Both are quite short and open with deeply elegiac slow sections that in the 17th simply grows in intensity, the melody becoming more insistent and the piece ending in a blaze of octaves. The 18th, in F sharp minor, follows the familiar two part structure of the early rhapsodys, the lassú (slow) and friska (fast), the figuration of the latter emerging naturally from the music of the opening lassú. The 19th is much more extended and is one of my favourites; in his old age he was showing he could still raise the rooftops with the best even if he had generally abandoned this virtuoso style. Gülbadamova plays it with panache and I enjoyed her performances of all three. The Schubert Hungarian melody that ends the programme is a modest and poised dance, quite restrained after the fireworks of the Liszt. Schubert later reworked it into part of the Divertissement à l'hongroise D.818 It has a hypnotic quality with an insistent dotted note rythym.
Gülbadamova is certainly happy to tread the byways and has appeared at the Husum Rarities of piano music festival twice. With the unusual arrangements of Brahms this is an attractive recital, well constructed and Gülbadamova plays with conviction. I feel she could sometimes let go more and allow more red-blooded gypsy shine through but for the most part the playing is engaging and this is a lovely album to dip into.
Rob Challinor
