Tibor HARSÁNYI (1898-1954)
Complete Piano Works 3
Giorgio Koukl (piano)
rec. 13 March (1-13), 24 May (14-24), 2020, Studio Bottega del Pianoforte, Lugano, Switzerland
GRAND PIANO GP831 [79:56]
I’m always struck by the fact that so much music remains unrecorded. In these recordings of fifteen works, only one - a three-and-a-half-minute piece - has been recorded before, and I ask myself how it came to be that the rest has lain in obscurity. The first disc contained all first recordings, in the second all but three of 37 pieces were and now this latest issue continues the pattern. To sum up, we have here a composer whose piano works number 93 of which a mere 4 have appeared on disc before. Once you have heard this recording, you cannot fail to regard this as terrible injustice. When you add the fact that he lived in Paris from 1923 until his death in 1954, was a member of the École de Paris with Alexander Tansman and Alexander Tcherepnin as well as being a member of the Groupe des Quatre with Bohuslav Martinů, Marcel Mihalovici and Conrad Beck, and helped found the Société Triton which organised concerts of contemporary music, you might imagine that, enriching French musical life as he did, he would have been well regarded by his adopted country. You would be wrong and, disgracefully, only after intervention by the Director of the Paris Conservatoire Claude Delvincourt, was his application for French citizenship finally approved and even then only in time to arrive at his home the day after he died! When Delvincourt read his application for naturalisation file he found a solitary sheet of commentary on which was written “Pursuing a socially useless profession”. That some petty functionary whose own worth could never be measured alongside Harsányi’s should wield such undeserved power over a true artist takes one’s breath away. I am moved to outrage on his behalf but have to say similar appalling treatment has been meted out to innumerable composers over time. I believe that today we are living in a period in which we are more receptive to listening to ‘non-standard’ repertoire, (who is to determine what that should be anyway?), and composers do not have to fight as hard to have their works heard.
Now to the music. The opening work is the sonata, a substantial work of almost thirteen minutes. The first notes lead us into a dreamy whimsical world which I find at odds with its marking of molto agitato. Certainly, it is awash with ideas and also displays feelings of a disturbed nature. While the slow movement is more serious in content, it contains some material that implies a disturbed soul wondering around in a daze. The third movement is a complete contrast, starting with a jaunty tune which never takes itself seriously, rather ‘playing it for laughs’. The final movement continues the mood of joyous gaiety but nonetheless still has a lyrical quality. The sonata was a relatively early work but Harsányi obviously thought kindly of it or he would not have considered dedicating it to one of his piano school colleagues, composer and pianist Alexander Tcherepnin, whose complete piano works Giorgio Koukl has recorded (Grand Piano GP608, 632, 635, 649, 650, 651, 658 & 659) and which I wholeheartedly recommend. There are some echoes of Tcherepnin in it and as such I think it was Harsányi tipping his hat to his friend and contemporary whose own first piano sonata had been composed eight years previously.
His 4 Morceaux, which pre-dates the sonata by two years, already shows how he injects a certain feeling of concern for a figure wandering through the musical landscape in a somewhat agitated and, at times, tortured state. Nevertheless, the pieces have a fragile beauty which endears them to the listener. I am in complete agreement with booklet writer Gérald Hugo when he draws comparison with Debussy in the second piece, the lyrical Sérénade, for it has a whimsical (there’s that word again) edge to it that I find so redolent of the French master whose works are the closest equivalent to painting in music that I know. Air is a slow piece which beautifully and gently floats along. Danse is upbeat with folkloric tunes which descend into some darker periods, then subside, and the music returns to a peaceful state in which to conclude.
If the Petite Suite pour Enfants was composed to be played by children rather than for them, it is certainly a work that requires a young pianist who has already progressed a good way along with lessons, for there are some quite taxing moments. Generally, it is an extremely pleasing work ‘dedicated to[his] little girl Claire’ but how old she was when she was able to tackle it, we don’t know. In the opening Prélude we hear more echoes of Debussy, though no doubt Harsányi would disagree since he regarded his work as being devoid of folkloric influences, preferring it to be considered as being musically closer to Brahms and Reger. The Valsette is a delightful little excursion to the palais de danse whose core theme is a charming waltz. The Minuetto is a gentle flowing interlude before the Marche takes us off via its singing central theme ‘bookended’ by appropriate march-like music.
Parc d’Attractions Expo 1937 – Le Tourbillon Mécanique (1937) is the sole piece on the disc that has been recorded before. It forms a part of Expo 1937, a set of works by ten composers to celebrate the 1937 Paris Exhibition. I find it significant that only one of those composers, Milhaud, was French, though perhaps that was as much to do with the aim of emphasising the exhibition’s international nature as anything else. Harsányi employs a toccata style to represent the machine-like nature of what in watchmaking is called a rotating cage, designed to aid the performance of mechanical watches. Its angularity helps with creating the image.
2 Burlesques from ten years earlier shows the composer’s talent in creating perfectly formed miniatures, here in upbeat form, with playful, jazzy moments in the second and both with catchy tunes.
Novellette comprises a wealth of ideas within its six-and-a-half minute outing with no less than six sections divided into two trios, reminiscent of Schumann’s Novellette No.8, as Hugon points out in the notes. The writing is bold and complex though overlaid with a shining beauty. Georgi Koukl relishes the counterpoising of light and dark moments in a suitably sympathetic reading.
Rhapsodie written in 1924 is an example of Harsányi at his improvisatory best exploring harmonies and enjoying the result in a piece that is of interest throughout.
Harsányi’s 3 Impromptus bring us up to 1952, two years before his untimely death, aged 56, though the middle section dates from 1948. Mouvement, the first of the three, is in an agitated mood but with interesting harmonies, while Flânerie is a delightfully carefree interlude with witty elements that carry it along in an elegantly involving mood. The final and last piece on the disc is entitled Nocturne, which Gérald Hugon describes as “a strange piece which appears to question the future”. I agree it has a strangeness about it but cannot be sure that I can discern its questioning nature. It is at times like this that I wish I could sit alongside a critic who could point out what to listen out for which informs their opinion. Suffice it to say it is very enjoyable, as is every single work on each of the three discs. I am sure that this exposure would have pleased Harsányi, as would the playing of Giorgio Koukl, which is always at the service of the composer.
This third disc is, for me, the most interesting of the three, incorporating, as it does, Harsányi’s most complex and thoughtful works. The recording is wonderfully bright and the technician Lukas Fröhlich deserves credit for ensuring that the piano sounds so beautifully responsive to Koukl’s magic touch, as does engineer Michael Rast. Both of them have ensured the continuity of sound quality from the Steinway Model D over all three discs. The teamwork between these three - pianist, engineer and technician - is key in the production of an enjoyable disc, so thanks to them all.
I am sad to leave Harsányi now I have got to know him and I hope others will enjoy discovering yet another yet another unsung composer who deserves much wider exposure which, hopefully, will ensue, following this set. I understand he wrote some chamber music which I am eager to explore as well as some orchestral music, so, for now at least, ”Au revoir Tibor!”
Steve Arloff
Contents
1-3: Piano Sonata (1926)* [12:43]
5-8: 4 Morceaux (1924)* [16:21]
9-12: Petite Suite pour Enfants (1923)* [11:20]
13-16: Piano Suite (1930)* [7:57]
17: Parc d’Attractions Expo 1937 – Le Tourbillon Mécanique (1937) [3:33]
18-19: 2 Burlesques (1927)* [5:08]
20: Novellette (1925)* [6:34]
21: Rhapsodie (1924)* [5:51]
22-2: 3 Impromptus (1952)* [10:01]
*World Première Recordings
