Firstly, my by now
obligatory introduction to the Welte-Mignon
system. Pass on to the next paragraph
if you’re au fait.
The Welte-Mignon piano
used a series of carbon rods attached
to each of the keys which lowered into
a trough of mercury to complete an electrical
circuit when the pianist hit a note.
The circuit caused inked rollers to
mark a roll of paper with the note itself
and also the speed and depth of the
attacked note. Playback was possible
before the roll was manually perforated
for public consumption on a player piano.
Theoretically then dynamic shading and
pedalling could be registered by the
complex system but Welte-Mignon was,
irrespective of the secrecies and ambiguities
of the system, something of a world
leader in the player piano world. Something
of their eminence can be gauged by the
composers who went to record for them
– Mahler, Ravel and Debussy amongst
them.
We’re living in interesting
times for reissues of 1905-09 Welte
material and a number of companies are
active in the market place. There are
fortunately a large number of rolls
from which to choose and the number
of pianists who left behind trace material
in this form is, as we have seen, significant,
Of great interest, in addition to the
composers, is the long line of musicians
who never made disc recordings. The
invariable caveat is the mechanical
nature of the system itself, about which
a great deal has been written. My own
feeling is that the layer of mechanical
intervention causes insurmountable problems
but that we should still willingly listen
to them for any light they may shine
on the pianists concerned.
Unfortunately Tudor,
a company I admire for their admirable
commitment to under-explored areas of
the repertoire, has come a little unstuck
with their contribution to the Welte
industry. There’s persistent ambient
noise throughout and some action noise.
It’s true that one’s ear is drawn to
the piano sound, by and large in tune,
but the extraneous noise is a touch
unfortunate. More worrying is the sleeve
note writer’s drawing attention to Carreño’s
outrageous performance of the opening
movement of the Waldstein sonata,
characterising it as obsessed with speed.
Well, yes, it is outrageous and manic
here. But turn to a rival performance
of it on Pierian and it’s a completely
different performance. Carreño
actually recorded the whole sonata and
Tudor gives us just the first movement.
To spell things out; Tudor’s lasts seven
minutes, Pierian’s eight and a half
and in that old wise saw they can’t
both be right. My money is on Pierian.
Not only that but Tudor’s sound is dull
in comparison.
As ever rhythmic stiffness
rules; Schnabel’s Weber is a particular
case in point and the Nikisch is jerky.
Zscherneck’s Mascagni is leaden. The
d’Albert Liszt doesn’t convince (stick
to his discs). Pugno rushes arbitrarily,
doubtless assisted by the Welte system,
Uzielli gives rubato laden performance
of Godard’s inconsequential piece, and
Sauer’s own piece is again too jerky
to be a realistic example of his pianism.
Naturally it’s valuable to have some
examples of Busoni, however imperfect
and of Leschetizky who never recorded
on disc. Maybe the most convincing performance
is Fanny Davies’ – but then perhaps
only because it’s the most mechanistic
piece.
The notes are genial
enough and there are some good biographies
of the pianists concerned. But this
is not a convincing example of the Welte
roll and, like the system itself, a
very great deal needs to be taken on
trust.
Jonathan Woolf