Theodor LESCHETIZKY (1830-1915)
Two Piano Pieces, Op. 38 (pub c.1889) [14:34]
Quatre Morceaux, Op.36 (pub 1887) [11:47]
Two Piano Pieces, Op. 43 (pub 1894) [7:29]
Pastels, Op. 44 (pub 1897) [11:27]
Two Piano Pieces, Op. 47 (pub 1906) [12:41]
Tobias Bigger (piano)
rec. 2019, Kulturzentrum Immanuelskirche, Wuppertal, Germany
BIS BIS-2518 SACD [58:52]
Leschetizky’s reputation as a teacher has served to occlude appreciation of his compositions. Some delightful pieces have been recorded but it’s been Tobias Bigger’s programmatic principle in this engaging SACD to give preference to opus sets that have been largely overlooked. I applaud the decision not to jettison pieces from each set, to present more pieces from diverse works. Concentration in this way ensures that, say, all the pieces from the Opp. 36 and 44 sets are presented.
Each of the sets has distinctive and attractive features; none presents trinkets of virtuosity though there are, inevitably, significant technical demands in some, more than others. The first of the Two Pieces, Op.38 offers a Menuetto that hints wittily at crisp baroque-leaning charm but seen through a late-nineteenth century prism, complete with dappled B section. The Mazurka-Impromptu inevitably, perhaps, acknowledges Chopin but has too a surfeit of drollery and high spirits. This cleverly ensures it is both indebted to – but subtly independent of – its model.
The Four Morceaux offer even more straightforward qualities. The first is strikingly beautiful with an ardent warmth and nobility whilst the capricious second offers digital challenges not least in voicings. The third has a relaxed rhythmic wit, with something of the boulevardier esprit about it, and the last of the four has a rippling, marine refinement, fast moving and sparkling – fresh as a mountain stream. The first of the two Op.43 pieces is cast in the ‘spinning song’ though what’s most distinctive about it is what I take to be lute imitations in the B section In the first of the four Pastels Leschetitzky explores the use of deft limpid treble writing whilst in the second, a Gigue, he seems to look back at the similar movement, also the second, in his Op.36 set. As the Humoresque shows – and as can be heard elsewhere – he exuded an air of bantering wit which, added to these morceaux’s sense of colour and character, ensures constant interest. Lovers of bombast and empty panache can look elsewhere.
The first of the two pieces that form Op.47 is a Nocturne and, like the Mazurka-Impromptu form Op.38 it doffs the hat at Chopin whilst remaining harmonically distinct, its romance and trills burnishing its eloquent attractions. The ripe chording and fuller colours of the Scherzo suggest another composer whose influence is otherwise absent, namely Brahms.
Tobias Bigger’s own notes are exemplary in their clarity and his playing, abetted by a fine recording, reveals similar qualities of care, discrimination but also genuine warmth. Leschetitzky’s little pieces have stylistic variety, within bounds, that proves eminently listenable on repeated hearings.
Jonathan Woolf
