RECORDING OF THE MONTH
Grigory Sokolov - Live in Paris
Ludwig van BEETHOVEN (1770-1827) Piano Sonatas: No. 9 in E,
Op. 14/1 (1798) [15:00]; No. 10 in G, Op. 14/2 (1799) [15:30]; No. 15 in D,
Op. 28, “Pastorale” (1801) [29:09]
KOMITAS (1869-1935) Six Dances [21:53]
Sergei PROKOFIEV (1891-1953) Piano Sonata No. 7 in B flat, Op.
83 (1942) [21:29].
Encores:-
Frédéric CHOPIN (1810-1849) Mazurkas – C sharp minor, Op. 63/3
[3:23]; F minor, Op. 68/4 [4:40].
François COUPERIN (1668-1733) Le Tic-Toc Choc ou Les Maillotins
[3:21]. Soeur Monique [4:01]
Johann Sebastian BACH (1685-1750) Prelude in B minor (after
BWV855a, arr. Siloti) [2:49]
Grigory Sokolov (piano)
rec. live, Théâtre des Champs-Elysées, 4 November 2002
MEDICI ARTS 3073888 [123:02]
This is a rare opportunity to savour the art of Grigory Sokolov, that most
reclusive of pianists. A Barbican
recital in May 2006 furnished the only opportunity I personally have had
of hearing him – and what a revelation it was, too.
The trio of Beethoven Sonatas is perfectly chosen: the Op. 14 set complements
the Op. 28 perfectly. How many amateur pianists, I wonder, have slaved over
the E-Major from Op. 14, aiming at full evenness in the interlocking third
semiquavers in the first movement and, like myself, failed miserably – at
least in comparison to Sokolov. There is an element of rescuing these sonatas
from an undeserved reputation as teaching pieces so that they can take their
rightful place as a part of the canon. Sokolov lavishes much love on the first
movement of the E-Major. The central Allegretto movement of the sonata is
no mere dashed-off interlude. It, too, has care upon care heaped upon it,
to revelatory effect. Note the way Sokolov links the two-octave leaps between
the “E”s in a miraculous way, or the way his scales are things of pearly,
even beauty in the finale. The second sonata of the pair, the G-Major, here
holds a first movement of the utmost burnished lyricism. Bruno Monsaingeon's
camera angles, fully entwined with the music itself, and Sokolov's beloved
low lighting highlight the sense of intimacy here. Sokolov's touch in the
central movement of the G-Major is infinitely varied, his depth of sound entirely
in keeping with his conception and used to contrast with the most fantastical
staccatos. Sokolov now takes my first recommendation in these pieces - previously
reserved for Backhaus.
The serenity of Beethovenian D-Major pervades the first movement of Sokolov's
“Pastorale” sonata. The Andante is a lesson in fine piano technique, with
the wonderfully legato right hand against perfectly judged left hand staccati
resulting in a magnificent Beethoven processional. Musicality is all here
– it is only in retrospect that one allows oneself the time to gawp at Sokolov's
even left hand in the third movement. At the time, one is completely engrossed
in Beethoven's fascinating musical surface. And that, surely, is how it should
be. The finale is slower than most – more a recollection of shepherds piping
than the pipes themselves. Ashkenazy in his early Decca account was most definitely
in the opposing latter camp, for example. The coda is stunning, and, for once,
not a mad romp to the finishing line.
The cheers that greet Sokolov after the final Beethoven Sonata are more those
that one would associate with end of recital delirium. Quite rightly, though.
This is Beethoven playing of the very first rank. Every note, every phrase
is to be cherished. Not only that, Sokolov's realisation of and delineation
of musical structure is exemplary and he is one of the few musicians that
can marry that to exquisite surface detail.
The three Beethoven Sonatas provided the first half of the recital and were
given without a break for applause. The second part opened with the Komitas
Dances, an idiosyncratic choice in which Sokolov fully presented the inherent
melancholy of these pieces from Armenia. Close-up shots of Sokolov's face
show his clear involvement and concentration. The piano is perfectly tuned
– the overall result is mesmerising.
For the Prokofiev Seventh Sonata, it is Pollini who has for long held my affections
(DG). Sokolov matches Pollini in animalistic, elemental ferocity but includes
more moments of bitter-sweet lyricism. Again, this reading goes to the top
of my tree. Sokolov's mastery of staccato comes into its own here. Note also
how Monsaingeon's use of a distant camera can emphasise the loneliness of
this music's slower portions. The intensity of the slow movement's climax
is monumental. If Sokolov does not quite equal Polini's cumulative effect
in the finale, it is a close thing indeed. The standing ovation is no surprise
– neither is the quantity and quality of the encores. The Chopin Mazurkas
actually sandwich the Couperin items. Sokolov's Chopin is twilit magic, his
Couperin a ray of adroitly-turned daylight. The final encore is a Bach/Siloti
Prelude. Sokolov's articulation is perfectly clean, but it is the serenity
that makes the performance glow that is most memorable. The perfect way to
end.
Colin Clarke
A rare opportunity to savour the art of Grigory Sokolov, that most reclusive
of pianists.