Gustav Holst was the Director of Music of St. Paul’s Girls’ 
                  School in London between the years 1905 and 1934. John York 
                  is currently the Senior Music Head of Department at the same 
                  school. It happened that in this school, in a cupboard of Holst’s 
                  room, John York found a leather-bound, engraved copy of Holst’s 
                  The Planets, arranged for 4 hands, one piano. The version 
                  was prepared with the help of two of Holst’s colleagues, Nora 
                  Day and Vally Lasker. Additional editing was done by John and 
                  Fiona York. 
                    
                  The 4-hand version is no substitute for the full orchestral 
                  one. This is probably most apparent in the opening number, Mars. 
                  The timbre of the heavy brass, like bellowing of battle elephants, 
                  colors this orchestral sound in violent dark red. Much of the 
                  musical progression is repetitive. In the full version this 
                  is concealed behind the constant change of color; the piano 
                  is not able match this ability completely. As a result, the 
                  music drags a bit. The final climax also loses much of its cosmic 
                  horror. 
                    
                  In the beginning of the static and mysterious Venus I 
                  get a feeling that a softer touch would have been better. But 
                  the further in the more I become enthralled by these impressionistic 
                  splashes, and the last minutes are magical. It’s possible that 
                  the performers deliberately avoided excessive softness, in order 
                  not to fall into the standard Debussian watercolors. 
                    
                  John York wrote in the liner-note that Mercury gave them 
                  the most trouble. Whatever their problems were, the pianists 
                  overcame them. The rhythmic precision is stunning. The silver 
                  glitter is dry and not too warm: the taste of Brut Champagne, 
                  exactly as needed. 
                    
                  Holst’s Jupiter is The Bringer of Jollity – and, 
                  surprisingly, that’s exactly what the music depicts: jollity, 
                  not solemnity, or grandeur, or other possible attributes of 
                  The Supreme One. This is Sir John Falstaff, dancing as he arrives, 
                  and humming the most hummable tunes! The music is not vulgar: 
                  there is much nobility in the Elgarian melodies, especially 
                  in the stately middle episode. This middle episode has the British 
                  imperial air around it, and the pianists play it with restraint. 
                  The performance is splendid, lively and bright, excellently 
                  conveying Holst’s humor. Music to raise your spirits! 
                    
                  Saturn is The Bringer of Old Age. Nothing is easy 
                  when you’re old, and the music breathes with an effort. Its 
                  steps are heavy. The middle episode quickens the tempo, and 
                  the tension grows. The climax is dark and heavy, though not 
                  as sinister as in the orchestral version. In the final part, 
                  the texture brightens and warms. There appear to be some good 
                  things in old age after all! 
                    
                  Uranus, the Magician seems to be a good pal of Dukas’s 
                  Sorcerer. In the orchestral version, the feeling of galloping 
                  power is created by mighty brass and colorful percussion. The 
                  piano version avoids being flat by using different registers. 
                  John and Fiona produce some spectacular fireworks here. 
                    
                  The soft shimmer and shine of the full-version of Neptune 
                  is painted by gentle woodwinds and by the mystic, wordless women’s 
                  choir, like voices of sea sirens coming through the fog. The 
                  Yorks manage to reproduce this misty atmosphere. Again, their 
                  piano does not sound for a single moment like Debussy: the sound 
                  is focused and well defined, and this only increases the depth 
                  and the mystery. Certainly, the finale of the original Neptune 
                  is unique, and there can’t be a substitute for that feeling 
                  of awe when the mesmerizing chorus enters. It’s out of this 
                  world, in all senses. But apart from this, frankly, I think 
                  that the Yorks hit the bull’s eye. The tempo, the dynamics, 
                  the viscid drift, the slowly swirling clouds – all is perfect. 
                  
                    
                  It is very interesting to hear how such a rich orchestral score 
                  as The Planets can be rendered on a single piano. After 
                  listening to the entire suite, the conclusion has to be that 
                  the piano is a fantastic instrument! One should know all its 
                  psychology, but Fiona and John York don’t seem to lack anything 
                  here. Their sound is so different in each piece. My minor objections 
                  are mostly about Mars (I still find it drags after many 
                  listenings) and the beginning of Venus. But I understand 
                  that they can’t play much more than is in the notes, and the 
                  level of polish and attention that the composer devoted to this 
                  transcription certainly cannot compare to those that the orchestral 
                  version received. 
                    
                  As a fill-up we have some less familiar music: the Suite 
                  No.1 by York Bowen, to which the pianists added the Finale 
                  movement from the Suite No.2. This was a smart decision: 
                  the first suite, ending on the lyrical Nocturne, would 
                  sound incomplete, and with the added Finale it obtains 
                  a closed 4-movement structure, similar to Rachmaninov’s Second 
                  Suite. The Prelude has a wide Romantic flow, with 
                  rising and falling tides. It is warm and ecstatic, and sounds 
                  a lot like Rachmaninov, though with a simpler harmonic structure. 
                  The second part is entitled Dance, which does not 
                  seem to me a good description of its character. Its structure 
                  is tripartite. The outer parts are fast and cheerful, almost 
                  march-like. The middle episode is slower, more lyrical, and 
                  very songlike. The entire construction seems overlong for its 
                  contents. Nocturne again borrows some melodic and harmonic 
                  moves from Rachmaninov (or, through him, from Borodin). It is 
                  warm and sensual, and builds to a dramatic climax. The music 
                  has movement and depth. John and Fiona give it a beautiful and 
                  expressive – I’d even say, loving - performance. The Finale 
                  is mercurial and happy. It has some nice Lisztian waterplay, 
                  and ends just at the right moment. 
                    
                  This disc is a piano duo feast. The coordination of the partners 
                  is marvelous, the variety of the sounds they produce is spectacular, 
                  and the feeling of the right sound at the right moment is priceless. 
                  Regrettably, the music itself has a certain second-hand feeling, 
                  though for different reasons. The 4-hand version of The Planets 
                  is a faithful portrait of the full version, but much is lost. 
                  However excellent the playing, I doubt I’ll ever take it to 
                  listen when I have the orchestral version next to it on the 
                  shelf. And Bowen’s work could too easily be attributed to Rachmaninov. 
                  No doubt, another “Rach” piano suite is a good thing, but it’s 
                  not quite on the same level of inspiration. 
                    
                  Still – my standing applause to York2, who once again prove 
                  their reputation as a “duo with a difference”! Where can I get 
                  in line for their future discs? The recorded sound can be bettered 
                  in terms of depth and presence. It is clear, but somewhat two-dimensional. 
                  The booklet contains an excellent essay by John York about the 
                  history of creation of The Planets (both the original 
                  and the piano version), and more. 
                    
                  Oleg Ledeniov 
                    
                See also review by 
                  John France February RECORDING 
                  OF THE MONTH