Frédéric CHOPIN (1810-1849)
Ballade No 1 in G minor, Op 23 [9:53]
Ballade No 2 in F, Op 38 [7:37]
Ballade No 3 in A-flat, Op 47 [8:03]
Ballade No 4 in F minor, Op 52 [11:37]
Fantasie in F minor, Op 49 [13:02]
Polonaise-Fantasie in A-flat, Op 61 [14:00]
Vladimir Feltsman (piano)
rec. 8-9 June 2008, Fisher Performing Arts Center, Bard College, Annandale-on-Hudson,
New York, USA
[midprice]
NIMBUS NI 6128 [64:07]
I recall a statement which has been attributed to many pianists and teachers:
anyone can play the notes, but only the best performers know how to play the
pauses between the notes. Or, in Artur Schnabel’s words, “The notes I handle
no better than many pianists. But the pauses between the notes - ah, that
is where the art resides!” Vladimir Feltsman is a master of the pauses. The
lead-in to the first Ballade’s main theme is an immediate example of this
gift: Feltsman waits long enough to excite my anticipation, but not long enough
to interrupt the flow. In the second Ballade, when the opening theme returns
after the first “storm,” a few notes are missing from the melody and Feltsman
underlines this. Out of a perfectly timed quiet, the second theme of Ballade
No 3 flows forth like spring water. The coda of the fourth Ballade explodes
out of some of the most poignant pauses on disc.
Listening to these performances, one does not take Chopin’s genius for granted
so much as marvel at how it operates. Feltsman’s playing is not smooth enough
to make this an easy ride; instead our attention is constantly brought to
Chopin’s deft writing and the pianist’s poetic touch. I would not hesitate,
then, to call these thought-provoking performances. Feltsman’s interpretations
are his own; they are an interesting paradox, poetic readings delivered with
force.
These ballades do not have the immaculate beauty of Ivan Moravec, or the smooth
perfection of Maurizio Pollini, or the straightforward purity of Artur Rubinstein
on RCA. In comparison with Rubinstein, Feltsman seems slightly mannered, more
willing to dawdle over notes and phrases and less so to give the tunes some
shape if it means playing too quickly. The second theme of Ballade No 3, which
I mentioned earlier, begins so promisingly but loses steam in such hesitations,
although it still reaches an impressive climax at about 6:00 and the rest
of the Ballade is handled wonderfully. The coda of Ballade No 4 left me wishing
for less obvious exertion, or nearly any other pianist’s ability to give the
final four chords equal weight. (I know the last one has a fermata, but I
prefer readings like Richter’s, in which it is cut short, like the other three,
bleakly and brutally.) On the other hand, Feltsman introduces the same Ballade
beautifully, resisting the urge to slow the murmuring opening bars to a crawl
and even here finding rarely-heard inner voices. And before the main tune
is introduced we have another glorious pause. There is an even better one
at 3:06, better because the tempo remains steady afterwards, as if nothing
has happened. Magic!
I love these performances of the Fantasie and Polonaise-Fantasie. The former
is begun with great simplicity, the music speaking for itself; the slow episode
from 1:14 is divine. By contrast, Feltsman plunges headlong into the more
feverish passages later on; I recall my paradoxical description of his playing
as sensitive, but with great force. In the introduction to the polonaise,
Feltsman emphasizes the mysteriousness of the music – the sense of being lost.
This is not my favorite Chopin work, actually not even close, but I can live
with it when played as probingly as it is here.
The first thing I noticed about this disc was the quality of the sound. It
seems dated, antiquated in some way: the highest registers are just a bit
glassy and bright, the piano sounds not quite as full as the best of today’s
recordings. I wondered if this recital, like several of Vladimir Feltsman’s
other albums now appearing on the Nimbus label, was a reissue of a recording
from the early 1990s. But no: this is a new release of recordings from June
2008. According to the booklet, “This CD was recorded with microphones, tube
preamplifier, and A/D converter, designed and built by Mark Fouxman.” Now,
this is quite intriguing, and I would have liked to hear more about it. Apart
from any question of whether the sound could be better, I would like to know
what inspired Mark Fouxman to build all his own recording equipment, how he
went about it, and how he came to partner with performer-producer Vladimir
Feltsman and engineer this album. The one-sentence liner note conceals what
sounds like quite an interesting story.
So these are very good new performances to have. Vladimir Feltsman shines
in the Second and Third Ballades and the Fantasie, and even when he does not
he is still quite interesting. That is more than can be said about most pianists.
His liner notes exhibit the same intelligence and occasional idiosyncrasies
which color his pianism, and the passages on which Feltsman lavishes special
attention in performance are the same as those which he singles out for discussion
in the booklet, making it clear how sincerely (and with how much care) he
has formed his interpretations. I prefer the authoritative directness, the
definitiveness, of Rubinstein’s ballades, the coolness of Pollini’s newest
DG Ballade No 2, or the effortless lyricism of Moravec, but there is always
room on the shelf for another good Chopin recital.
And remember what Schnabel said about the pauses between notes: “that is where
art resides!” Art is truly in residence here.
Brian Reinhart
It is no insult to Feltsman’s playing to praise his pauses