This
disc brings Konstantin Scherbakov’s
Liszt/Beethoven cycle to a rousing conclusion.
Those who have been collecting this
series will already be rushing into
the stores, real or virtual, to snap
this issue up. Those who are as yet
unfamiliar with Liszt’s Beethoven transcriptions
should do the same.
Beethoven’s
music is omnipresent in our 21st century
world. We come to know his symphonies
through a plethora of media: television
commercials, film soundtracks, radio
broadcasts, attendance at concerts and
by washing our ears in an infinite ocean
of recordings on 78s, SACDs and everything
in between.
We look
at Beethoven more as a trailblazer of
symphonic form rather than its summation,
as the Romantics did. They either tried
to match him, or declared the symphony
dead. Those in the former camp included,
for example, Schumann, Mendelssohn,
Brahms and Bruckner. Of the leaders
of the latter camp, Wagner turned to
opera and Liszt, when composing for
orchestra, pioneered the symphonic poem.
Both camps, however, venerated the "canon"
of Beethoven’s nine symphonies, at least
as much as we do today, if not more
so.
In Liszt’s
day, though, the dissemination of this
legendary music was much more difficult
than it is for us. Edison only patented
his phonograph in 1896, just under a
decade before Liszt’s death, and it
was much too primitive to capture a
symphony. Beethoven’s symphonies were
performed live, but contemporary music
held sway in the concert hall and if
you lived any distance from a decent
orchestra, your chances of attending
a concert were slim. A larger percentage
of the emerging middle class could read
scores than nowadays, so listening to
the music in your head or plinking out
bits of it on the fortepiano were options.
There were also arrangements for chamber
ensemble of some of the symphonies,
the arrangement of the second symphony
for piano trio usually attributed to
Beethoven being the one that comes to
mind.
Liszt’s
transcriptions served a dual purpose
of providing a new vehicle for his virtuosity
and bringing this magnificent music
to a wider public. Unlike his operatic
paraphrases and many of his other arrangements,
which are wildly exciting and heavily
rouged, Liszt’s transcriptions of these
two symphonies were clearly respectful
labours of love. His preservation of
the musical lines is painstaking. Ornamentation
is written into the scores sparingly
to fill out textures, not to distract
from the musical argument.
I have
been listening to the seventh symphony
a good deal of late. I recently purchased
Barenboim’s Beethoven cycle with the
Staatskapelle Berlin (Warner Classics
2564-61890-2 see review)
and downloaded Bernard Haitink’s fabulous
reading with the LSO (CD LSO0078).
That
being the case, I expected to miss the
sound of the orchestra when listening
to this piano transcription. I did not.
I even caught myself listening to this
piano version of the seventh in my mind’s
ear in when I woke up one morning! The
magnetism of Scherbakov’s pianism is
that convincing. He is a masterful pianist,
fully attuned to the dynamic differences
Beethoven demands, able to play piano
with a firm touch, and to bring a singing
tone in his forte.
Scherbakov
sculpts the introduction to first movement
of the seventh with subtlety, and renders
the main theme with grandeur. His account
of the slow movement is grave without
being lachrymose and his use of rubato
is subtle. His scherzo is playful, if
a little understated. Only in the finale
of the seventh does the transcription
sound a little ponderous and the textures
thin, and I suspect that both Liszt
and Scherbakov are equally at fault
here: Liszt for not managing the tonal
palette more effectively; Scherbakov
for the awkward sounding tempo fluctuations
and overemphatic left hand. If in the
final analysis the finale fails to convince,
it is still illuminating.
The
eighth, however, is wholly successful.
Scherbakov enjoys the humour of this
piece, pointing phrases and making much
of the dynamic contrasts with some wonderfully
delicate playing, and real gusto where
called for. This performance has all
the wit and verve that you could ask
for and shows Beethoven at his most
Haydnesque.
I had
not heard any of Liszt’s Beethoven transcriptions
before I received this CD for review.
I was, however, quite familiar with
Liszt’s transcription of Berlioz’s Symphonie
fantastique as recorded by Idil
Biret (Naxos 8.550725). As much as I
enjoy that recording, it always sends
me straight back to the orchestral version.
Scherbakov’s
(and Liszt’s) great achievement here
is that the performances on this disc
are sufficient in their own right. In
fact, it is refreshing to hear such
familiar music apart from the orchestra.
Suddenly performance aesthetics, the
battle or compromise between the old
big band style and period performance
practice, cease to matter. With the
different timbres and tones of the instrumental
voices suddenly ironed out by the keyboard,
each leading voice becomes something
of a primus inter pares. As great works
in their own right which shed new light
on well known classics, these transcriptions
are well worth hearing.
Having
given such a glowing endorsement, I
should acknowledge that Scherbakov faces
competition in these pieces from Leslie
Howard on Hyperion and Cyprien Katsaris
on Teldec (see review).
I have not heard either of these competing
recordings. I can tell you, though,
that if you love these symphonies then
you will enjoy Scherbakov’s performances
of these transcriptions. At the Naxos
price, it is well worth hazarding the
purchase.
Patrick
Waller, in his review
of the Ninth Symphony in this series,
said: "Each time I have listened
to it I have marvelled at Beethoven’s
music, Liszt’s conception for the piano,
and Scherbakov’s musicianship and virtuosity."
The same holds true for me with this
release.
Tim
Perry
Konstantin Scherbakov (piano)
