Complete sets of the
five concertos are not that common.
True, there are some stellar names –
Ashkenazy/Previn, Boris Berman/Järvi,
Demidenko/Lazarev, Toradze/Gergiev and
Postnikova/Rozhdestvensky amongst them,
but pianists generally have their strengths
- and weaknesses - in this body of work
and choose accordingly. But Abdel Rahman
El Bacha steps in boldly, seconded by
Pappano’s successor at the Monnaie,
Kazushi Ono, to give us not only an
integral set but a live one at that.
El Bacha is an eloquent
exponent of the repertoire and a technically
accomplished one. He has recorded Prokofiev
before, taping a series of early works
in the early 1980s that won him prizes,
though he may be internationally more
noted for his extensive Chopin series
of performances and recordings. Recorded
over a very short period – there may
have been patching sessions but one
can’t be sure from the documentation
– this is still a fearless commitment
and one that reflects well on the musicians.
There are some bass-heavy levels throughout
that tends to darken the syntax somewhat.
In the First Concerto this contributes
to a feeling that the rising figuration
of the first movement isn’t exultant
enough, added to which the percussion
can sound dulled in the acoustic of
the Palace of Fine Arts in Brussels.
As a result the performance never really
gets out of the blocks in the way that
the Argerich/Dutoit does or the Richter/Ančerl.
El Bacha and Ono take a quite direct
and steely view of the second movement
and string weight tends to be light,
with the finale not as effervescent
as some, though there’s a gimlet precision
that I quite like.
The Second Concerto
opens here with forthright introspection
but conveys the dramatic flourishes
with some considerable panache; in the
Intermezzo the decorative roulades are
pinpoint, though a little submerged,
though the ensuing heavy brass bring
out the accumulations of drama well.
The Third is once more fluent and articulate.
The Theme and Variations second movement
goes at a good jog trot tempo (though
it’s even so a minute slower than Prokofiev’s
recording with the LSO). Detailing is
not quite precise enough however or
as etched as it could be – rhythms tend
to be smoothed out somewhat, though
the winds are vibrant. Certainly it’s
relatively conventional next to the
expressly Gallic sound world conjured
up in Joyce Hatto’s recent recording
for Concert Artist. The Fourth, for
the Left Hand, is notable not simply
for El Bacha’s digital facility (undoubted)
but for the vein of melancholy he explores
in the Andante; this is one of the high
points of the set, and he proves impressively
capable of meeting the considerable
demands without flurry, smudging or
over pedalling. The Fifth is a wonderfully
puckish work that reveals that El Bacha
and Ono are alert to its saucy mordancy
(in the Moderato ben accentuato) as
they are to its deeper expressivity
in the Larghetto. It’s a difficult work
to make cohere and if, in the final
result, certain recording characteristics
tend to militate against an outright
recommendation then this is still a
fine achievement.
Of course individual
allegiances still adhere for me; Richter
in the First and Fifth; Anda in the
Second; Prokofiev, Kapell and Argerich
(not everyone’s choice but I like her
here) in the Third and Berman and Janis
in the Fourth. For a general recommendation
for a collection of all five you could
try one of the titans noted above but
El Bacha’s is an accomplished set, one
to be admired.
Jonathan Woolf