Variations
Karol SZYMANOWSKI (1882-1937)
Variations on a Polish Theme, Op. 10 (1904) [19:01]
Helmut LACHENMANN (b. 1935)
5 Variations on a Theme of Franz Schubert (1956) [7:02]
Harrison BIRTWISTLE (b. 1934)
Variations from the Golden Mountain (2014) [9:19]
John ADAMS (b. 1947)
I Still Play (2017) [5:15]
Aaron COPLAND (1900-1990)
Piano Variations (1930) [12:06]
Paul HINDEMITH (1895-1963)
Variations (1936) [7:56]
Sofia GUBAIDULINA (b. 1931)
Chaconne (1963) [9:06]
Clare Hammond (piano)
rec. December 2019, Potton Hall, Westleton, UK
Reviewed in SACD stereo.
BIS RECORDS BIS-2493 SACD [70:59]
Clare Hammond’s recital recordings for the BIS label have plenty of thought-provoking and interesting repertoire in them, as evidenced in her Etude disc (review). Variations is, as you would expect, beautifully played and recorded, and is packed with high quality but relatively off-the-beaten-path works. Variation form, I have to admit, hasn’t been one of my favourite types of music, although there are many noble exceptions. Clare Hammond’s choices indeed “transcend the form in myriad creative, and at times daring, ways.”
Szymanowski’s Variations on a Polish Theme is an early work composed in his final year as a student at the Warsaw Conservatory. It is written in a late Romantic idiom but, while unselfconsciously virtuoso in places, is by no means heavy or overstated. Hammond points out the influences of Franck and Richard Strauss in her booklet notes, as well as Scriabin and the Russian Mighty Handful. There are ten variations here, and these are sufficiently wide ranging to make you forget you are indeed listening to variations. There is a Mussorgsky-tinged Marcia funebre that gives maximum contrasts to the lightness elsewhere, a piece with such emotive power that it was orchestrated and played in that version at Szymanowski’s funeral. Another piece that takes itself to regions far beyond its original material is Lachenmann’s Five Variations on a Theme of Franz Schubert. After a gentle opening that refers to Schubert’s Écossaise D 643, there is a compact set of five variations that range from fearsome intensity to theatrical wit à la Kurt Weill and a closing mood that “hints at a fraught uncertainty and desolation”. This is 1950s modern music with its own sense of abstraction mixed in with surprise and drama, and it is by no means unapproachable.
You wait ages for a bus, and then two come along at once, Harrison Birtwistle’s Variations from the Golden Mountain also turning up recently on Nicolas Hodges’ A Bag of Bagatelles album on the Wergo label (review). The connection claimed on Hodges’ disc was with Beethoven, though Clare Hammond has it as “a tribute to Bach’s Goldberg Variations”, a connection to which I find harder to discern. “This is subtle, spare music, intricately carved and sincerely felt” is a description with which I can wholeheartedly agree however, though this is a tougher nut to crack than the Lachenmann. Hammond is a little more compact than Hodges in her performance, and although his opening ‘explosion’ is swifter he is a bit more ruminative in character in general. The BIS recording captures more of the dynamic range from the instrument or from the player, and as all too often I’m caught in a swings and roundabouts dilemma, preferring neither one over the other enough to make a definitive choice - both being excellent, with Hodges perhaps having the poetic edge over Hammond’s marginally more abstract but also more dramatic impression of the work.
John Adams’ I Still Play is the tonal refresher after Birtwistle’s intensity, composed as it is in what the composer has called his “Satie meets Bill Evans” style. This is written so as to be technically within the reach of amateur musicians, and it takes its initial waltz through a switchback ride of tempi, styles and rhythmic alterations. Aaron Copland’s Piano Variations from 1930 are “perhaps the most monolithic set of variations of the twentieth century”, so don’t go expecting anything comparable with his easy going Appalachian Spring. This is severely abstract and modernistic music for the most part, though there are touches of Copland’s sweeter side in a few of the gestures and chords. Hammond sums up “its emphasis on single lines, dynamic extremes and architectural grandeur, this is conspicuously un-‘pianistic’ music”, and the work still has a polarising effect. Some regard it as a milestone in the future of music, while others consider it too difficult. Leonard Bernstein was a big fan of the piece, and it is one of those works that, the more you hear it, the more you can hear in it. There have been several recordings, including a good one on the Naxos label by Benjamin Pasternak (review), but Clare Hammond’s closely recorded and fearless performance can stand comparison with anyone.
Hindemith’s Variations are a poignant reflection on a poem called Der Main by Hölderlin, its theme of exile and longing in consonance with the composer’s own increasingly untenable position in Nazi Germany in 1936. The eloquent passions and expressive profundity in this piece are all sublimely expressed in this performance of music that combines darkness and beauty in equal measure.
Sofia Gubaidulina’s Chaconne closes the programme with impressive weight. This is another monumental and at times granitic work that you need to stick with to appreciate. I was interested to compare Hammond’s recording with that of Anna Gourari on the ECM label (review), which is a good two and a half minutes longer. This accords with the ‘Canto oscuro’ theme of that album, and Hammond’s approach has more in common with other recordings in being more urgent and dynamic. As she says, “the range of emotion here is remarkable, particularly within such a short time span… its conviction and assurance form an astounding endorsement of the genre.” Conviction and assurance are also words that easily apply to Clare Hammond’s playing both here and throughout this fine album, the recorded sound of which is fairly close and dry, but is consequently detailed and full of dynamic range and colour.
Dominy Clements
