Claude DEBUSSY (1862-1918)
  Études, L143 (1915) [46:43]
  Pour les 'cinq doigts' (d'après Monsieur Czerny) [3:16]
  Pour les tierces [3:42]
  Pour les quartes [4:46]
  Pour les sixtes [4:14]
  Pour les octaves [2:49]
  Pour les huit doigts [1:57]
  Pour les degrés chromatiques [2:18]
  Pour les agreements [5:27]
  Pour les notes répétées [3:16]
  Pour les sonorités opposées [4:47]
  Pour les arpèges composés [4:12]
  Pour les accords [5:59]
  Sergei PROKOFIEV (1891-1953)
  Études, Op 2 (1909) [12:03]
  No. 1 in D minor: Allegro [2:52]
  No. 2 in E minor: Moderato [3:00]
  No. 3 in C minor: Andante semplice [4:01]
  No. 4 in C minor: Presto energico [2:10]
  Béla BARTÓK (1881-1945)
  Études, Op. 18 (1918) [7:49]
  Allegro molto [2:17]
  Andante sostenuto [3:10]
  Rubato [2:22]
  Garrick Ohlsson (piano)
  rec. December 2013, Henry Wood Hall, London, UK
          Reviewed as a 24/96 download
  Pdf booklet included
  HYPERION CDA68080 [66:35]
	Honestly, Garrick Ohlsson and Hyperion were made for each other; I’ve already reviewed their Griffes – one of my Recordings of the Year 2013 – Granados and Scriabin, all of which impressed me enormously. I’ve dubbed Ohlsson a ‘pianistic prestidigitator’, but he’s not the only magician here; time and again Hyperion have conjured up some of the best piano sounds imaginable. Philip Martin’s Gottschalk, Marc-André Hamelin’s Rzewski and, most recently, Stephen Hough’s Grieg spring readily to mind. With that sort of pedigree this new album is bound to be a winner.
  
          Appropriately enough for studies designed for ‘remarkable hands’ 
          Debussy’s delectable dozen kicks off with five-finger exercises 
          after Czerny. Surely those of us who tried to master the piano at an 
          early age will remember pecking out those scales – tongue protruding, 
          perhaps – but what follows would have required a great deal more 
          talent. These are not dry-as-dust performances, for wit and whimsy are 
          part of Ohlsson's repertoire as well.
  
          Whether focusing on thirds, fourths, sixths or octaves he blends crystalline 
          textures with the kind of rhythmic fluidity that lifts and animates 
          this music at every turn. Factor in fearless dynamics and a marvellous 
          feel for Debussy’s musical shapes and you would be forgiven for 
          thinking you’d died and gone to heaven. I really can’t imagine 
          a more complete and compelling traversal of these pieces than this. 
          Each has its own character – skittish or mock-serious, rollicking 
          or reflective – and all are explored in full and vivid detail. 
          Pour les sixtes is a particular delight; its dark ruminations 
          in the left hand and bright rhapsodising in the right do indeed seem 
          to convey the world in miniature.
  
          Not only that, Ohlsson has a flair for the dramatic – what attention-getting 
          octaves – yet he steadfastly refuses to overplay his hand. The 
          splendid recording is just as well-behaved, effortlessly embracing Debussy’s 
          stormy chords and sunlit arpeggios. As for the repeated notes of No. 
          9 they always put me in mind of Gottschalk’s touch-fest Tremolo; 
          indeed, I’d love to hear Ohlsson play some of the Creole Chopin’s 
          more extrovert pieces. Moving on, I simply can’t recall a more 
          complex mix of shades in No. 10. The wonderfully tactile recording – 
          timbres are so true – really comes into its own here and in the 
          restless perambulations of No. 12.
  
          How do you follow that? With Prokofiev’s nose-thumbing 
          Études, of course. Remarkably for such an early opus these 
          four studies demonstrate the composer’s ability to juxtapose the 
          laconic and the lyrical; the pounding figures of the Allegro 
          are supplanted by a seamless – if searching – Moderato. 
          Ohlsson rejoices in the angularity and drive of the anything-but-typical 
          Andante and the frankly seditious dissonances of the Presto. 
          Goodness, what scorching statements from one so young, and how perfectly 
          Ohlsson articulates them all.
  
          And just when you think your jaw couldn’t drop any further Ohlsson 
          dashes off Bartók’s Op. 18 with all the clarity and passion these 
          pieces deserve. This isn’t the kind of subversive talent one recognises 
          in Prokofiev, say, but it certainly marks out the Hungarian as a bold 
          and uncompromising musical presence. That’s just the way Ohlsson 
          sees this music; no quarter asked for, none given. Throw in Roger Nichols’ 
          highly readable liner-notes and a super-slick download process and you 
          have a piano album to die for.
  
  Dazzling pianism, class-leading sound; another notch on Ohlsson’s bed post.
  
  Dan Morgan
           twitter.com/mahlerei