(++++) PIANISTIC PROWESS

Arno Babadjanian: Prélude et Danse de Vagharshapat; Impromptu; Capriccio; Sonate Polyphonique; Élégie; Gérard Gasparian: Ballade; Poème; Aram Khachaturian: Toccata; Adagio de Spartacus et Phrygia; Komitas: Danses pour Piano. Jean-Paul Gasparian, piano. Naïve. $16.99.

Brahms: Piano Concerto No. 2; Franck: Les Djinns; Weber: Concertstück in F Minor. Joshua Pierce, piano; Bohuslav Martinů Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by Kirk Trevor (Brahms, Franck); Slovak State Philharmonic Orchestra, Košice conducted by Bystrìk Režucha (Weber). MSR Classics. $14.95.

     The thrill of discovery is alive and well on a new Naïve CD on which Jean-Paul Gasparian explores his family’s Armenian heritage – both directly and indirectly. Only one of the four composers whose works are heard here, Aram Khachaturian (1903-1978), will likely be known to most listeners, but one of the others is hyper-familiar to the pianist: his father, Gérard Gasparian (born 1960), whose two works are very well-made and highly expressive. Ballade does seem to be telling a distinct if unspecified story, while Poème, which is a world première recording, has an impressively delicate expressiveness that veers close to sentimentality but stops short of becoming cloying. Both the works are based on Armenian songs and folk material – a foundational element in almost all the music here. The primary focus of the disc is Arno Babadjanian (1921-1983), whose works bespeak considerable familiarity with folk music and attentiveness to melodic and harmonic richness – with an understanding of 20^th-century compositional techniques but without being slavishly beholden to them. Prélude et Danse de Vagharshapat combines a warmly evocative 90-second introduction with a strongly accented and rhythmically expressive dance. Impromptu ranges from the sweet and naïve to the emphatic, while Capriccio offers a pleasantly varied series of moods and feelings. Sonate Polyphonique is the most distinctly modern-sounding piece here, showing Babadjanian’s thorough command of dissonance and rhythmic and harmonic alterations. The central movement, Fugue, has the strongest contemporary sound, although the opening Prelude and concluding Toccata partake of similar sensibilities to some degree. Élégie contrasts strongly with the sonata, being warm, thoughtful and overtly emotive throughout. As for the other composers to whom Gasparian devotes himself with unerring skill and understanding, Khachaturian is here represented by a very strongly accented Toccata, whose contrasts with the similarly titled Babadjanian sonata movement are considerable – and whose intense forward drive, briefly interrupted for more-lyrical material, sweeps performer and listener alike into a highly evocative aural space. And Khachaturian’s Adagio de Spartacus et Phrygia, the work on this CD most likely to have been previously heard by listeners, is delicate, comparatively simply harmonized, lyrical, emotionally expressive, and thoroughly engaging in Gasparian’s first-rate, beautifully balanced performance. The CD concludes with four Danses pour Piano by Komitas (Soghomon Soghomonian), an Ottoman-Armenian priest who lived from 1869 to 1935 and is considered the founder of Armenian national music. All four of these dances – Yerangi, Unabi, Marali and Shushiki – are presented with an understanding of their folkloric roots as clear as anything to be found in Bartók or Kodály. Yerangi is moderately paced and quiet, Unabi more rhythmically varied, Marali attractive in its hesitant rhythms, and Shushiki delicately expressive. Gasparian’s sensitivity to all this music comes through with abundant clarity, and the CD, although intended as an exploration of the pianist’s own family history, is far more than a personal indulgence: it offers the chance to become familiar with some highly worthwhile but little-explored nooks and crannies of keyboard material.

     The pianism is just as impressive on an MSR Classics release featuring Joshua Pierce, but the works are far better known than anything Gasparian performs. And the Pierce CD is a bit disappointing when it comes to the orchestral accompaniment, which is not quite at the same level as the pianism. The specific choice of repertoire on this (+++) disc is also a touch odd – the three pieces have little in common except for their 19^th-century origins, although even there, Weber’s musical time period differs from that of Brahms and Franck. Thus, what unites the works is simply the excellent pianism that Pierce brings to them. The disc is a remastering of performances from 1999 (Brahms and Franck) and 2003 (Weber), and the sound is quite good. Pierce fully understands the grand symphonic scale of the Brahms concerto, giving it a big sound that borders on the portentous but not the pretentious. He plays with warmth, a strong sense of rhythm, and an understanding of the participatory nature of the piano part – which never fully dominates in this concerto. But because this is essentially a symphony with piano obbligato, the orchestra is crucial to a fully successful performance, and the Bohuslav Martinů Philharmonic Orchestra under Kirk Trevor is not (or was not in 1999) quite of the same quality as the pianist. The lovely cello solo at the start of the third movement is less than impressive, and while everything in the concerto is played with strength and fervor, the orchestra’s overall sound and sectional balance are not quite at the top level. Matters are somewhat better in the Franck symphonic poem Les Djinns, which is overtly an orchestral work with piano obbligato – but the piece, while it has some interesting moments, is scarcely substantive enough to turn this disc into a must-have. Actually, the most completely successful performance here is of Weber’s Konzertstück (here spelled Concertstück). Originally planned as a piano concerto, this ended up as a single-movement, four-section piece with an explicit program that Pierce brings forth with considerable skill. Emotionally, the piece is about separation, anxiety, fear, worry – and then, in its third and fourth (major-key) sections, triumphant return and overwhelming joy. Pierce and Bystrìk Režucha pace the work rather quickly, especially in the march and concluding section, and the result is a strong and effective contrast with the worry and emotional indulgence in the first portions of the piece. As a whole, this is a pleasant CD whose works are likely already in the collection of most classical-music lovers. So for most people, there will be no overwhelming reason to acquire these versions of the pieces – except, of course, if listeners have a particular interest in Pierce’s very fine pianism.