‘Echoes and reflections’, the punning title of Roger Nichols’ 
                liner-note essay, makes the point that Debussy’s early piano works 
                ‘echo’ the style of Schumann, Chopin and Grieg, while the later 
                ones are utterly individual in their ‘floating, ornamental quality’. 
                As for ‘reflections’ that’s all part of the composer’s painterly 
                style; it’s a sound world that really comes to life at the hands 
                of exceptional, intuitive/reflective pianists. The legendary Walter 
                Gieseking was one, as are Pascal Rogé and Jean-Yves Thibaudet. 
              
But what about 
                    Simon Trpčeski? The young Macedonian has already recorded 
                    discs of Chopin, Rachmaninov, Scriabin and Prokofiev, which 
                    may not make him an obvious choice in this repertoire. He 
                    is one of that new breed of European pianists who silence 
                    all criticism when it comes to sheer technique but seem to 
                    attract it in matters of style and execution.
                  
The opening of 
                    Arabesque No. 1 is a very encouraging start, the music 
                    seductively shaped, the recording full-bodied and warm. There’s 
                    no doubt these early pieces owe much to Schumann et al, 
                    which is why they only hint at the harmonic complexities of 
                    Debussy’s later works. No matter, Trpčeski draws gloriously 
                    rich, firm sonorities from his piano, especially at the close 
                    of the first Arabesque. The more effervescent Arabesque 
                    No.2 certainly underlines his technical strengths, with 
                    some beautifully crystalline playing. That said Trpčeski’s 
                    almost forensic attention to detail sometimes robs the music 
                    of its character.
                  
Only a minor reservation 
                    so far, but it’s potentially more serious when it comes to 
                    the wit and sparkle of Children’s Corner. The piano 
                    exercises of ‘Doctor Gradus’ ought to sound more affectionate 
                    and spontaneous than they do here. Trpčeski doesn’t seem 
                    comfortable with the subtle rhythms of the piece, which is 
                    also a problem with ‘Jimbo’s Lullaby’. The piano is very well 
                    captured throughout, especially in the bass, but that mix 
                    of fun and fantasy proves much more elusive.
                  
The ‘Serenade 
                    for the Doll’ is short on charm, although Trpčeski makes 
                    amends with some evocative musical flurries in ‘The Snow is 
                    Dancing’. If only that undeniable talent were put to the service 
                    of the music and flaunted less this would be an enchanting 
                    performance. Regrettably enchantment is also in short supply 
                    in ‘The Little Shepherd’, which is despatched with little 
                    affection.
                  
And while that 
                    perennial favourite the ‘Golliwogg’s Cake-walk’ has a few 
                    smile-inducing moments it sounds more like a stroll with Jimbo, 
                    thanks to awkward phrasing and extreme dynamics. It’s hard 
                    to believe this music can sound so ungainly; in fact, the 
                    Munich Trombone Quartet’s recent transcription of the piece 
                    has far more wit and rhythmic vitality than this.
                  
The two books 
                    of Images show Debussy at his ‘floating, ornamental’ 
                    best, with ‘Reflets dans l'eau’ a quintessential example of 
                    his mature style. Trpčeski does bring out something of 
                    the music’s ambiguous, diffuse character, finding a Ravelian 
                    glitter in the treble flourishes as well. As for the composer’s 
                    homage to Rameau, Trpčeski achieves a certain gravitas 
                    and simplicity that is most apt, but makes ‘Mouvement’ sound 
                    too much like Rachmaninov. This impression is reinforced by 
                    a big-boned recording, which highlights Trpčeski’s dynamic 
                    excesses.
                  
Broadly Book II 
                    brings with it the same reservations about style and scale, 
                    although ‘Et la lune descend sur le temple qui fût’ is slightly 
                    more successful in both respects. Trpčeski shows more 
                    restraint here, but then the piece barely rises above piano 
                    so there is no temptation to indulge in pyrotechnics. Not 
                    so in ‘Poissons d’or’, where Trpčeski really does sacrifice 
                    musical good sense on the altar of empty showmanship. Very 
                    disappointing indeed.
                  
The real surprise 
                    is the success of ‘Clair de lune’. Trpčeski plays this 
                    magical score with astonishing sensitivity He doesn’t dispense 
                    with the extrovert approach entirely but achieves a welcome 
                    degree of refinement and charm. And the sense of scale is 
                    altogether more satisfying too. There is some really lovely, 
                    idiomatic playing here; if only Trpčeski musical judgment 
                    were more consistent this would be a very desirable disc indeed.
                  
‘L’isle joyeuse’ 
                    is middle-period Debussy, harmonically more complex and stylistically 
                    better suited to Trpčeski’s gregarious musical personality. 
                    He certainly points up the music’s coruscating character and 
                    despatches it in a dazzling display that Liszt might have 
                    envied.
                  
              
And therein lies the 
                rub. This music has a number of wonderful interpreters so one 
                wonders whether commercial considerations and the lure of a ‘star’ 
                pianist outweighed more important artistic ones. On the basis 
                of this disc at least it seems Trpčeski’s flamboyant style 
                is better suited to Rachmaninov, Prokofiev and Stravinsky. Of 
                course that may change, but for the moment this is very much a 
                work in progress.
              
Dan Morgan