Sergei PROKOFIEV (1891-1953)
Piano Concerto No.2 in G minor, Op.16 (1913) [31.45]
Piano Sonata No.2 in D minor, Op.14 (1912) [18.26]
Piano Concerto No.3 in C major, Op.26 (1921) [29.16]
Freddy Kempf (piano)
Bergen Philharmonic Orchestra/Andrew Litton
rec. July 2008, Nybrokajen 11 (former Academy of Music), Stockholm, Sweden
(Sonata) and August 2008, Grieg Hall, Bergen, Norway
BIS-SACD-1820 [80:48]
Despite the vintage of the recordings and a remarkably out of tune piano at
times, my long-term reference for Prokofiev’s piano concertos has been that
of Vladimir Ashkenazy as soloist, with the London Symphony Orchestra conducted
by André Previn on Decca. With these energetic and crisp performances rattling
in one’s ears, the opening of the Piano Concerto No.2 with Kempf and
Litton can initially seem a bit soft-focus. The balance between piano is certainly
more realistic with BIS, the solo instrument more of an orchestral member
than a towering giant which can dwarf the entire string section. Ashkenazy
was really at his remarkable best in these recordings, and in the end it’s
more a wonder that the piano survived at all, let along being left with a
few twangy strings. That incredible piano solo in the first movement of the
second concerto is equally impressive with Kempf, the recording balance alone
giving one marginally less concern for one’s personal safety as it progresses.
I’ve already admired the Bergen Philharmonic in some other
recordings, and both they and Andrew Litton are more than just a safe
pair of hands in this repertoire. Previn and the LSO give a bit more of that
Russian rawness which ideally suits much of this music, but even with their
refinement and meticulous accuracy the Bergen orchestra generate plenty of
colourful animation and excitement. As far as timings go Litton undercuts
Previn by a little here and there, but there is precious little to separate
them in terms of tempo for the most part. The gritty menace in the Intermezzo
is more threatening with Previn, and his colours are more Stravinskian.
Litton brings out more of the Peter and the Wolf sparkle where the
score allows, his wit perhaps understandably warmer and less grotesquely cold-war.
The grim climax to this movement is still spine-chilling however – neither
soloist nor conductor pulling any punches. The Finale is truly impressive
as well, the sheer detail in the recording pulling you along and defying you
to believe such things are possible. Kempf is moving in the lyrical passages
later on in this movement, bringing out Prokofiev’s melodic invention without
sentimental manipulation, but conveying plenty of emotional weight at the
same time. At 5:50 the bell effects of the cadenza create atmospheres both
ominous and cinematic, and Kempf builds a marvellous structure. The piano
balance in the Ashkenazy has a bulkier mid-range which creates a different
picture, but both are fascinating.
The Piano Concerto No.3 is the most easily accessible of the five,
and is justly popular. Written after four years away from his homeland, the
wistful opening hints of reminiscence; soon to be blown away by Prokofiev’s
trademark spiky rhythms and energetic nerviness. Once again this Russian,
or should that be Soviet fragrance of coal and smoky hard work is more in
evidence with Ashkenazy and Previn, but Kempf and Litton are equally valid
in their slightly less fraught and marginally plusher aural picture. The remarkable
last pages of the first movement are very striking, with the castanets typing
away more realistically in the centre/rear of the orchestra rather than seeming
to come out of Previn’s right ear on the Decca recording. The Tema con
variazioni movement is well measured and builds nicely, holding plenty
in reserve for where the score demands maximum wallop. The piano solo with
those horns about halfway through is sheer magic. Majestic power characterises
the final Allegro ma non troppo, and everyone rises to the challenge
magnificently. The bittersweet melodic material from 2:39 is inspired, with
better discipline in the winds when compared to the LSO, and an unashamed
romantic sweep to the string shapes which whisks you momentarily into another
time, reminding you with a shock that this music is nearly 100 years old.
Prokofiev’s Piano Sonata No.2 makes a good inner layer for this substantial
concerto sandwich. It was written in between the first and second piano concertos,
and as a launching pad for much of what was later to appear in Prokofiev’s
personal style it has plenty of familial relationships with the concertos.
There is a degree of echo with earlier romantic pianistic language, but you
can hear Prokofiev exploring his material and pushing boundaries the whole
time. Freddy Kempf’s previous Prokofiev disc on BIS has Sonatas 1, 6, and
7, and as an ideal companion to this concerto CD this has received plenty
of critical acclaim. MWI has had its eye on Mr. Kempf for some time now, and
the predictions made by Marc Bridle in his earlier interview
are most certainly coming to fruition. This particular piece is probably not
the reason most people will buy this disc, but is in any case the equal of
any version I can think of offhand. The only comparison I had available was
that with Murray McLachlan from 1989, originally on Olympia but now available
in a bumper bargain Brilliant
Classics box with the Scriabin and Shostakovich sonatas. McLachlan is
OK, but can be a troublesome case in places with these recordings, and certainly
discounts himself this sonata with a strange slow-motion reading of the third
Andante movement, taking 8:34 to Kempf’s 4:40. I had thought there
must be a misprint of that I’d forgotten some da capo event in the
piece, but no, it’s as if the tempo indication was Largo molto rather
than Andante. Kempf strides this music with magnificent and sparkling
technical prowess, and as a ‘filler’ this sonata recording certainly fits
the bill.
At over 80 minutes of SACD sumptuousness I will hear no complaints aimed at
this disc. Freddy Kempf is a pianist who can easily prove himself in the top
echelon of today’s artists, and the musical communication evidenced on this
release show his craftsmanship has no need for hype or gimmick. BIS’s usual
impeccable recording standards are held high in this recording, and while
the stereo mix is of course excellent the SACD sound is far more than just
the icing on a very attractive cake. With all of the surround information
some elements in the recording slot into place which you hadn’t even realised
needing slotting beforehand, and the solidity of the soloist in relation to
the wider spread of the orchestra makes you realise what all the state of
the art fuss is about. This is a recording and set of performances about which
making a big fuss would seem entirely appropriate.
Dominy Clements