It’s been some time since I’ve heard
Peter Donohoe, who I first encountered on a fine disc of Tchaikovsky
concertos with Rudolf Barshai and the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra
(EMI Classics). This SOMM disc is the first in a projected series -
the second will feature Piano Sonatas 6, 7 and the Cello Sonata with
Raphael Wallfisch - and if his 1990 EMI recording of Nos. 6 to 8 is
anything to go by this new series should be rather special. As the SOMM
publicity points out, Boosey asked Donohoe to prepare definitive editions
of these scores in 1985, so he knows them rather more intimately than
most.
I’ve had the pleasure of hearing two riveting sets of Prokofiev
sonatas recently, both of which capture the composer’s mercurial
and complex nature; Alexandra Silocea’s traversal of Nos. 1-5
for Avie (see Byzantion’s very positive
review)
and Nos. 6-8, the so-called ‘War Sonatas’, by Denis Kozhukhin
(Onyx). Both are well recorded too, which makes these scintillating
scores sparkle all the more brightly and picks out their restless swirls
and eddies. That said, the combination of Donohoe’s fine Steinway
and a sympathetic acoustic is even more impressive, as his account of
the little Op. 1 so readily demonstrates. He is much weightier than
Silocea, although the latter does find a rather lovely vein of poetry
to match the passion of the piece.
In the first movement of the second sonata Donohoe displays a wonderful
control of rhythm and dynamics, and brings out the music’s bipolar
qualities. His articulation in the pointilistic
Scherzo is as
good as it gets, and one has a delightful sense of the composer’s
Puckish side. There’s a contrasting melancholy in the
Andante
that both Silocea and Donohoe mine most effectively, although the latter
has a liquid technique that I find very appealing. In response to this
painterly wash Silocea opts for more emphatic brushstrokes; both are
most alluring though, as they are in the subversive wit of the concluding
Vivace.
It’s the London bus syndrome; you wait ages for one and then two
arrive at once. Recordings of these turbulent and taxing sonatas are
few and far between, so one must rejoice at the almost simultaneous
appearance of these superb issues. Both pianists are in commanding form,
and at this stage I would hesitate to recommend one over the other.
Donohoe has the better sound - rich and weighty in the climactic passages,
subtly coloured in the quieter ones - but Silocea is almost his equal
when it comes to illumination and insight.
Donohoe’s account of the single-movement third sonata is breathtaking
in its agility and detail. Not only that, he gives us a rather touching
glimpses of Prokofiev, the man behind that mask of suavity and sophistication;
now pensive, now pounding, this is a taut and fiercely focused work
that can’t fail to impress. Donohoe certainly tugs at the mask
more insistently than Silocea, who concentrates rather more on the sheer
heft and brilliance of the piece. For the first time - and remarkably
so, given Silocea’s relative youth - Donohoe emerges as the clear
winner.
The gap widens in the fourth sonata, where the dark sonorities of Donohoe’s
imposing instrument are superbly rendered. As for the ambiguities of
the
Andante they have seldom emerged with such assurance and
insight. I daresay this is where his forensic knowledge of the score
really pays off - the finale is just as authoritatively played - and
I found myself marvelling anew at the musical and emotional range of
this extraordinary work. Make no mistake, Silocea doesn’t disappoint
either; it’s just that her rhythms are less supple, and while
she has the music at her fingertips her rival seems to have it etched
on his consciousness.
Donohoe gives us the original Op. 38 version of the fifth sonata, Silocea
the revised Op. 135. There’s not much in it, for they don’t
differ that much, and as expected both pianists give it their all. Once
again Donohoe’s unerring instincts for the shape and colour of
these scores - their topography, if you will - is what sets him apart
from all his rivals, not just Silocea. The internal dialogues and asides
of the
Allegro tranquillo - as well as the jewelled Tchaikovskian
delicacy of the
Andantino - are adroitly done, and the finale
trips effortlessly off the page. That said, Silocea has a very good
ear for Prokofiev’s peacock colours, which she displays to great
effect in the
Andantino.
Donohoe’s detailed, readable liner-notes make his disc even more
desirable; factor in sonics that come close to those achieved by class-leaders
Hyperion and you have a formidable package. Roll on Volume 2.
Top-notch Prokofiev, commandingly played; this is as good as it gets.
Dan Morgan
http://twitter.com/mahlerei
