That excellent New
York-based pianist Mordecai Shehori
has been producing records on his own
Cembal d’Amour label for some time now,
a number devoted to important historical
survivals but an equal number devoted
to his own performances. It’s important
that such things are recorded because
in the absence other evidence we should
simply have to rely on the critical
consensus surrounding his concert programmes
and the like.
Shehori is seen in
some quarters as a powerhouse player
but this is quite wrong. I’ve reviewed
several of his other discs and they
show commanding technique put to the
service of entirely musical aims. The
rationale of this programme may be somewhat
hazy – it has rather an odd "look"
to it – but the playing as such is always
of engaging warmth. The Beethoven sonata
for example may jolt those more used
to Kempff’s more muted dynamic attaca
but that vivacious leaping fourth
with which it begins is not stinted
and one senses Shehori feels the pull
of a forward-looking Beethovenian drive
rather than the more residually Haydnesque
approach others may find. If he never
quite manages to reach the climaxes
of the slow movement with Kempff’s infallible
timing one can note how he prefers auburn
colours in preference to the singing
treble of the older master. And in the
scherzo he prefers a more grazioso and
gentle approach to dynamics, whilst
Kempff gives us a twitchingly visceral
and vertical sound world. Sometimes
in the finale Shehori’s bass drama may
seem a touch outsize but his coffee
coloured tone makes an interesting point
of departure; more contained and with
mellower voicings.
His Chopin songs in
their piano solo guise make for fine
and contrastive listening. The keen
treble singed sonorities of The Maiden’s
Wish contrast with the delicate
tracery of Spring, the dance
rhythms of the Drinking Song
rub shoulders with the much better known
My Joys. Shehori doles out the
dramatic impetus when necessary whilst
maintaining a singing line in the more
lyric moments. The Mozart quartet of
pieces may summon up, for some, the
spirit of Horowitz. He was especially
taken by the Adagio and by the Rondo
and left recordings of both. Shehori
brings a definable pensiveness to the
Fantasy and elsewhere etches the bass
with powerful incision. He finishes
with a Barere standby, the Rapsodie
espagnole, by which it’s better
known than the booklet’s Anglophone
‘Spanish Rhapsody’. This has attracted
some of the most tigerish of Klaviertigers
over the years – Kissin, Gilels, Petri
(in his master Busoni’s orchestrated
arrangement) as well as Arrau, Berman
and a phalanx of others. None, Shehori
included, breaches Simon Barere’s blistering
live performance of 1947, itself even
better than his 1934 commercial HMV
recording. The galvanizing drama of
that lies in a stratosphere all its
own. Shehori’s talents are altogether
less sulphurous, as indeed are almost
all pianists’. He approaches this mountain
with a full, even and rounded tone,
a "chiming" treble and characteristic
bass etching. And he’s certainly no
tempo lingerer and brings reserves of
unforced power to bear.
Shehori shows what
an adept and poetic player he is in
these performances. True, the recordings
don’t capture the full piano spectrum
with absolute immediacy but quite enough
to reveal Shehori’s ardent and self-evident
gifts.
Jonathan Woolf