A well-filled, well-played
selection of the extraordinary solo
piano pieces included in Rossini’s Péchés
de Vieillesse, part of an ongoing
series which has been deservedly very
well-received.
What is sin? So far
as I understand it the orthodox Christian
defines it (in the words of the Shorter
Catechism) as follows: "Sin is any want
of conformity unto, or transgression
of, the law of God." If for "the law
of God" we substitute "the conventions
of the musical establishment", then
the relevance (however ironic) of the
word to Rossini’s joyously, inventively
transgressive music is readily apparent.
Consider, for example, the games played
on the listener’s expectations – which
are, of course, conditioned by his or
her familiarity with musical convention
– in the opening piece the Petite
promenade de Passy à Courbevoie,
la percourant (homéopathiquement
et à la pesarese). The work
is built around a repeated phrasal pattern,
four measures long, which moves through
the keys built on the twelve tones of
the chromatic scale. A concluding passage
of greater urgency, with insistent repetitions
in the left hand seems to be bringing
the work to a predictable end when,
suddenly, the music stops and the previously
repeated phrase is heard again, once
in E major and once in E minor. The
composer had ‘forgotten’ these keys
in the earlier sequence! In a verbal
note in the score, Rossini ‘apologises’
to the keys he had overlooked and inserts
them in the midst of his conclusion
– which is resumed after this ‘interruption’!
Elsewhere – in, for
example, Encore un peu de blague
– the repetitions are unlike anything
in the then prevailing language of music;
rather, as Irmer observes in his excellent
booklet notes, they "point far into
the future, to the 840 repetitions of
Erik Satie’s Vexations and other
minimalist concepts in the music of
the twentieth century".
In the prevailing air
of sheer impudence, in the elements
of parody (of Liszt and Wagner in Spécimen
de l’avenir, for example),
in the remarkable syntheses of the styles
of other composers and in many other
ways this is music that has a youthful
energy and, perhaps, irresponsibility,
which might, in some eyes, have been
thought ‘sinful’ in a man of Rossini’s
advanced years; rarely can an elderly
composer have so resolutely refused
to live up to conventional presuppositions,
so adamantly – and vividly – refused
to play the role of the sober sage,
the elder statesman. Instead we get
music that blurs the boundaries between
the playful and the serious, that quizzes
every established convention, music
which has the same high intelligence
and studied irreverence which characterises
the witty titles the composer gives
it – Rossini’s titles are both a delight
in themselves and an important part
of the complex game of ironised traditions
and startling experimentation that is
the Péchés de Vieillesse.
Thank goodness Rossini was so ‘sinful’,
so willing to flout the expectations
of the merely respectable.
I sometimes find Irmer
just a little short on Italianate lyricism,
but his is a thoroughly valid and rewarding
way of playing Rossini’s late music
and he certainly respects both its wit
and its seriousness – for this is music
with serious purposes, however far way
it is from ever being solemn.
As is usually the case
with productions by MDG, the recorded
sound is exemplary. If you have, like
me, already fallen under the spell of
the Péchés de Vieillesse
you will surely want to add this
CD to your collection. If not, this
wouldn’t be a bad place to start.
Glyn Pursglove