BIS’s unwavering commitment to the music of
Kalevi Aho means we seldom have to wait very long to hear the composer’s
latest creations on disc or download. The most recent were the horn
and theremin concertos, the first of which impressed me a great deal,
the second rather less so (
review).
While the latter may have disappointed me a tad, Carolina Eyck's mastery
of the 'ether organ' is beyond question. Now we have a collection of
Aho's piano music, some of which dates from his school days; ah yes,
one might think, the derivative/precocious scribblings of a young wannabe.
Well, nothing could be further from the truth.
The pianist Sonja Fräki is new to me; she specialises in contemporary
music and the fact that she chose Aho’s piano works as the subject
of her doctoral thesis at Helsinki’s Sibelius Academy must surely
make her an ideal interpreter of these pieces. The recording was made
in the composer’s presence, which adds even more weight to this
enterprise. I would have expected Aho to write the liner-notes, but
this time it’s left to Fräki; she’s admirably concise and
strikes a good balance between the music’s genesis and content.
The classical canon is peppered with significant sets of preludes, so
carrying on this noble tradition might seem like an impossible challenge,
especially since Aho began his while he was just sixteen. I'm astonished
by the variety and imagination of these pieces, played here with a burning
advocacy that most composers can only dream about. Yes, there are many
references to earlier composers, stretching back to Bach, but as so
often with Aho he integrates these echoes into music that’s unequivocally
– even defiantly – his own.
I tend to praise Hyperion for the excellence of their piano sound, which
few labels can match. Well, I’m happy to make an exception here,
for the BIS team have captured all the richness and weight of Fräki’s
Steinway D in a recording of tremendous range and presence. There's
no doubt that the combined immediacy and sophistication of this release
adds much to one's enjoyment - and critical perceptions - of this moreish
music. Ditto the choice of performing space, the crystal clear but never
sterile-sounding Nya Paviljongen, Grankulla.
In 1971 Aho set out to write a set of ten études, which he never completed;
the
Three Small Piano Pieces are as far as he got. Less than
four minutes in length this is a powerful, imposing set of miniatures
that combines spike and spontaneity, reflection and robustness. That
same compactness is transferred to the
Two Easy Piano Pieces
for Children which, as the title implies, were written for
teaching purposes. The solemn but quirky little
Andante is
charming and the sudden tantrums of the
Allegretto had me laughing
out loud. Now this is the kind of witty and refreshing fare I’d
have loved when learning to play the piano.
The three-movement
Sonatina for Piano shows how far Aho had
come by the early 1990s; added to that early assurance is a formal clarity
and heightened awareness of shape and colour. The scintillating
Toccata
is splendid, but it’s the metropolitan rush and jangle of the
Prestissimo that will take your breath away. Fractious but
never fractured, Fräki brings a precision and energy to these bravura
bursts that had me mentally applauding her at every turn.
Solo II,
written as a competition test piece, could so easily deteriorate into
a fatigue-inducing obstacle course for aspiring concert pianists; that
it doesn’t is a tribute to Fräki’s ability to imbue the
‘double notes, fast leaps and runs’ with a surprising degree
of warmth and character.
As if that weren’t enough the
Sonata for Piano does indeed
live up to Fräki’s description of it as Aho’s most important
piece for solo piano. Cast in three fairly short movements it has an
elusive, tangential opener that underlines this pianist’s remarkable
powers of articulation, not to mention her sure sense of musical shape
and thrust. The work itself is technically demanding and yet, as so
often with Aho, it still engages and entertains. That’s a sleight
of hand, to encompass all these things at once; indeed, this must be
one of the most fertile and intellectually satisfying solo piano pieces
I’ve heard in ages. The
Tranquillo molto emerges as if
in a daze, only to morph into a finale of formidable stamina and length
of stride.
Anyone who reads and dips into a newly celebrated author’s early
oeuvre is apt to be disappointed by those fledgling efforts. Not so
Aho’s
Nineteen Preludes which, already so well formed,
point confidently towards the future. Precocity there is none, just
fine music intelligently wrought. Factor in Fräki’s fabulous playing
and BIS’s bar-raising sonics and you have a very desirable issue
indeed.
A genuine jaw-dropper, this; almost certain to be one of my recordings of the year.
Dan Morgan
twitter.com/mahlerei
