Lambert Orkis recorded
this Gottschalk selection – not quite
forty-four minutes’ worth – back in
1982. Added novelty derives from the
fact that he played an 1865 Chickering
concert grand – an instrument that he
notes had a very light action, oddly
sized keys, small dampers and a "wet
sound." At times in fact it comes
close to the sound of a pianola but
despite its parlous state before restoration
it held up pretty well during the recording,
a few squeaks apart.
Orkis strikes a welcome
balance between Lisztian fireworks and
pious sentiment. In fact two of the
eight works chosen might almost exemplify
this dichotomous side of the composer’s
oeuvre – the finger gymnastics of Union
and the weepy reflection of Le Chant
du Martyr. Elsewhere we have ebullience
and Chopinesque reverie served up with
often captivating colour.
Deuxième
Banjo followed Le Banjo,
a big Gottschalk hit though its publication
preceded the better-known work. Ostinati
vie with bravura banjo impersonations
to create an ornamental gumbo devoted
to the stringed instrument of the title.
The Chickering’s middle voicings are
perhaps appropriately rather hoarse
and suit the more down home moments
very nicely. The Chopin inheritance
of which Gottschalk was so conspicuously
aware is explicit in the 1855 Solitude
with its quiet gravity adding emotive
ballast to Orkis’s programme. Not inappropriately
it was played at the composer’s Requiem
Mass in New York. Grandiosity and Chopinesque
waltz rhythms drive the delightful La
Brise written a few years before
Gottschalk’s early death. The Chickering’s
treble really glitters and the piece
ends with a grandiose salon flourish.
The Chickering is most
apt for the eventful voicings in something
like Souvenir de la Havane and
its bright, extrovert qualities are
well realised here as well. Manchega
is a left hand etude rich in Iberian-Hispanic
verve and rhythmic vivacity. The Chickering’s
more "upright" sonorities
and occasional incipient out-of-tune
propensities seem only to add to the
ribald dynamism of the music making.
La Savane reminds one melodically
of Skip To My Lou but is actually
based on an old Creole song, Lolotte.
And that pile driving Union, with
its paraphrases of the Star Spangled
Banner, Yankee Doodle and Hail
Columbia ends proceedings with dynamic
figuration cut from the Abbé’s
finest.
Short timing of course
but a special set of circumstances rather
prevailed for this recital. The recording
is a touch occluded. But the performances
are richly enjoyable, redolent of opulent
soirées and New Orleans salons
and the calliope on the river.
Jonathan Woolf