It’s been my good fortune to hear the start
of two very promising new Prokofiev sonata cycles, one from the veteran
Peter Donohoe on Somm (
review)
and the other from a relative newcomer, Alexandra Silocea on Avie; like
me, Byzantion was impressed by the latter’s traversal of Sonatas
1-5 (
review).
As for Donohoe, he recorded Nos. 6-8, the so-called ‘War Sonatas’,
for Warner about 25 years ago. If the first instalment of his Somm project
is anything to go by we’re in for a treat. A pianist who has swum
into my ken recently is Denis Kozhukhin, whose account of Sonatas 6-8
is mandatory listening for all Prokofiev fans (Onyx 4111). He’s
alive to the outward virtuosity of these works; happily, he’s
just as well attuned to their inner ambiguities. The all-revealing Onyx
recording is top notch.
The much-lauded Russian pianist Yury Martynov (b. 1969) has escaped my attention thus far, although Byzantion described his first CD of Liszt/Beethoven arrangements as ‘little short of sensational’ (
review). As Martynov has now recorded three instalments in that series I think one can safely assume this Prokofiev collection won’t be his last. The couplings, the rarely heard
Pensées (Thoughts) and the delightful
Musique pour enfants (Music for Children), are a pleasant surprise; both were written in the years leading up to the composer’s return to the USSR in 1936.
The fifth sonata, composed at Ettal, in Bavaria, is reasonably well
served on record, but Donohoe’s and Silocea’s accounts are
among the finest of recent memory. Martynov, like Donohoe, opts for
Op. 38 rather than the revised Op. 135; I much admire the latter’s
ability to shape this music - to map its topography, as it were –
and that’s something I miss in Martynov’s response to the
first movement in particular. Yes it’s exciting, but staying with
the geographical metaphor it’s also something of a featureless
plain. That said, I do like his firm but gentle control of rhythms and
the way he makes inner voices collide and cascade, to ear-pricking effect.
The
Andante is just as lucid, helped in no small measure by
a well-focused recording; there’s warmth too, so the runaway glitter
of the
Un poco allegretto is tethered by a taut, nicely resonant
bass. Martynov is certainly proficient – he’s more than
that in parts - but his playing is too generalised for my tastes. Both
Donohoe and Silocea are more colourful and vibrant. I really look forward
to hearing Kozhukhin in this one, for he lifts and animates these scores
in a way that only a few pianists can manage.
On the surface Martynov’s reading of the three-part
Pensées
is attractive enough - he produces some gorgeous sonorities –
but that counts for little when the performance is as literal, as po-faced,
as this. I just don’t hear Prokofiev’s distinctive ‘voice’
anywhere, and that’s immensely frustrating. Listen to Boris Berman
(Chandos CHAN 9069) and you’ll hear a wistful circularity, a gentle
whimsy, that Martynov simply cannot emulate. In Martynov's hands these
are very shallow cogitations indeed.
That persistent lack of imagination and flair doesn’t bode well
for Martynov’s
Music for Children, written a year before
Peter and the Wolf. As with
Kinderszenen, Schumann’s
contribution to the genre, these are ‘easy pieces’ in name
only; and like most miniatures they require a quick wit and lightness
of touch. Alas, they get neither here.
Morning is leaden -
Promenade is nicely articulated though - and for all its delicacy
Little Story doesn’t enchant as it should. The
Tarantella
is dispatched with cool efficiency, the
Waltz is unsmiling
and even the
March of the Grasshoppers lacks charm. I could
go on, but there’s little point; indeed, it would be hard to imagine
a less magical or engaging set of performances than this.
Martynov rounds off with the sixth sonata, which happens to be one of
the most satisfying things on Kozhukhin’s disc. Apart from superb
articulation the latter makes the first movement teem with controlled
energy and incident, whereas Martynov goes for broke with a big, splashy
sound that misses the work’s subtle shifts and nuances. The recording
is sized to match – the piano’s lower registers are powerfully
rendered – and there’s no denying this is bravura pianism.
Trouble is, it’s apt to pall as the ear searches in vain for the
usual landmarks.
I’m more favourably disposed towards the
Allegretto,
whose staccatoed character is very well conveyed; however, Kozhukhin
phrases that
Romeo and Juliet tune with far more finesse. With
Martynov the ensuing slow waltz is more opaque than most, and in that
sense it’s very much in keeping with his overall view of the piece.
The concluding rondo, with its echoes of the opening movement, can so
easily seem literal and heavy handed; and so it is here, with little
sense of the elusive subtext that makes for a more complex and rewarding
performance.
I suspect one’s response to Martynov’s Prokofiev will depend
a great deal on what one expects of this music. Lovers of sheer virtuosity
and aural splendour won’t be disappointed, but those who seek
the complex and elusive persona behind the notes will be. In mitigation
the recording is excellent and André Lischke’s detailed
liner-notes – in French and English - are well worth reading.
All in all, a quality package.
There’s far more to these scores than this; for illumination look elsewhere.
Dan Morgan
twitter.com/mahlerei
