In recent years I’ve greatly admired several
recordings by the American pianist, Craig Sheppard. These have included
a fine set of the Bach Partitas (
review),
excellent readings of the last three piano sonatas by Schubert (
review)
and, above all, his magisterial survey of the Beethoven sonatas (
review).
More recently he has released a set of Liszt’s
Années
de Pèlerinage (
review)
though I have not heard that. Now we have a new recording of the complete
Debussy
Préludes. In accordance with Sheppard’s
usual practice these have been recorded during live recitals in the
Meany Theater, Seattle and the pianist uses his own Hamburg Steinway
D instrument, made in 1984. There’s applause at the end of each
Book of
Préludes but otherwise the audience is commendably
silent. Sheppard plays the pieces in their published order.
There are any number of recordings of Debussy’s
Préludes in the catalogue. My colleague, Jonathan Woolf has already
reviewed this performance by Craig Sheppard and I would recommend that you also
read his thoughts on this set, not least because he’s been able
to make comparisons with recordings of these pieces by pianists from
the past, chiefly Daniel Ericourt (1903-1998) who had a direct link
with Debussy himself.
I enjoyed Craig Sheppard’s performances enormously. The
Préludes are, in effect, miniature tone poems with the possible exception of
‘Les tierces alternées’, which is more akin to a
study. Apart from the myriad technical challenges the pianist has to
think himself into the meaning of each piece, one after another in rapid
succession, and then convey Debussy’s mood and tone-painting to
the listener; all this within a short space of time for the majority
of these pieces are over and done in around three minutes. I’d
say that Sheppard is completely successful in putting across the character
of each of these pieces and, needless to say, the technical difficulties
are all surmounted with aplomb.
Among the highlights are the two very different evocations of the wind
in Book I. ‘Le vent dans la plaine’ portrays a capricious breeze but
‘Ce qu’a vu le vent d’ouest’ is a very different matter. The latter is
a turbulent and unpredictable wind and one never knows from what
direction the next gust will come. Sheppard illustrates both types of
wind imaginatively and I particularly admired the dynamic virtuosity
that he brings to the second of these pieces. He’s perceptive too. For
example, in his notes he remarks of ‘Des pas sur la neige’ that the
French title speaks of footprints ‘on’ the snow whereas the
conventional English usage would be ‘in’. The French way with the
phrase suggests to Sheppard ‘
treading
ever so carefully …’ [his italics] and that comes across
in his playing, yet I hear delicacy and not nervousness in his careful
tread.
Also in Book I we find ‘La cathédrale engloutie’.
In the opening Sheppard conjures up deep pools of sound from his Steinway
and when the cathedral’s great organ sounds at the climax the
sonority is most imposing. As the building sinks back under the waves
and beyond our gaze Sheppard’s exalted technical control and imaginative
sense combine to impart a fine feeling of mystery. In complete contrast
- one of several instances where the pianist has to make a very full
and rapid mental shift - the following ‘La danse de Puck’ is despatched with finger-work of Elfin delicacy.
Sheppard describes ‘Feuilles mortes’ in Book II as “otherworldly and
mysterious”. It’s easy enough to make a statement like that, far harder
to convey it through your playing but that’s just what he achieves.
It’s astonishing how authentically Debussy conveys the sound of Spain
in ‘La puerta del vino’ merely on the prompting of the image on a
postcard which he received from Manuel de Falla, it seems. Sheppard
brings out the sultriness and passion in the music admirably. Equally
impressive is the atmosphere and poetry in his reading of ‘La terrace
des audiences du clair de lune’ and I really appreciated the calm and
poise that he brings to ‘Canope’. Writing of ‘Les tierces alternées’,
in which he displays great virtuosity, he says that “its difficulties
(are) hidden to all but pianists”. In all honesty that’s a description
that could apply to all these 24 pieces but a top rank pianist - and
Craig Sheppard is certainly one such - will make the listener forget
all about technical difficulties and marvel instead at the poetry, wit
and descriptive imagination displayed by Debussy in these marvellous
and greatly varied short pieces.
As an encore Sheppard gives us
Les soirs illuminés par l’ardeur
du charbon. I’m mildly surprised that there’s no reference
to this in the booklet for it’s of considerable interest to Debussy
aficionados since it was, I believe, his last piano piece and the manuscript
was lost until 2001. Roy Howat discussed the piece, which was never
intended for publication, it seems, in a
2012
lecture entitled ‘Resonances of Baudelaire in Debussy’s
Piano Music’. From this we learn that the manuscript was given
by Debussy to his coal merchant in gratitude for maintaining coal deliveries
during the bitter winter of 1917. Hence the title (‘Evenings lit
by burning coals’) is very apt. It’s an especially appropriate
encore to the
Préludes since, as Mr Howat points out,
it opens with a thematic quotation from ‘Les sons et les parfums
tournent dans l’air du soir’ and it also, apparently contains
what he calls “fleeting echoes” of ‘Canope’ and ‘Les tierces alternées’. This is subdued, delicate
music, which is the perfect contrast to the final
Prélude,
the virtuosic ‘Feux d’artifices’, and Sheppard gives
a lovely, poetic reading of it.
This is an admirable traversal of Debussy’s
Préludes. The very high standard of playing and the evident thoughtfulness of
the interpretations are exactly what we’ve come to expect from
this fine pianist. The recorded sound is very good, capturing the Steinway’s
sound clearly and truthfully. Craig Sheppard’s own booklet notes
are informative and enjoyable.
John Quinn
See also review by
Jonathan
Woolf
