Russell Sherman’s Chopin mazurkas tend to be fast, at a sort
of trotting pace, and not always in a good way. The popular
Op. 7/1 is a case in point: it glitters at this speed, comes
across as a cheery romp, but also feels somehow intangibly ‘wrong’,
like something’s amiss. Maybe it’s because Sherman stops to
smell no roses. Just compare the 1:43 here versus Garrick Ohlsson’s
2:21 or Ivan Moravec’s 2:18.
Others who have listened to these recordings have used words
like “wilful” and “fussy”. Sherman, 77 years old when this was
recorded and 82 now, seems to be playing into some kind of stereotypical
old-man persona, cranky and weird and uncaring what you think.
So why on earth do I feel like I actually enjoyed these two
CDs? Maybe it’s simply the new light in which he recasts the
music, the weird ways he takes some of my absolute favorite
pieces and renders them in ways I’d never imagine. Maybe it’s
the moments of genuine inspiration, like the repeated notes
in Op. 41/1. Would I have ever played Opp. 17/1, 24/4, or 30/4
(left-hand chords so terse) this way? No. Am I confused by the
weird combination of soft, sad touch and hectic rhythm in Op.
50/3? Yes. Am I strangely glad to have heard these pieces in
Sherman’s clipped, undanceable fashion? Yes, for some reason.
Am I likely to turn to this set instead of Ohlsson or Rubinstein?
No.
Those seeking Russell Sherman at his best should listen instead
to his superb Beethoven concertos series with the Czech Philharmonic
and Vaclav Neumann. It too is different, but I find it a rewarding
treasure, not a curiosity. These mazurkas are for the Chopin
lover who enjoys listening with a critical ear and being challenged
by interpretations outside the mainstream. Are they interesting?
Yes. Are they very good? I honestly don’t know.
Brian Reinhart