(++++) PIANISTIC PERSONALITIES

Rimsky-Korsakov: Piano Concerto; Prokofiev: Piano Concerto No. 2; Alexandre Tsfasman: Jazz Suite. Zlata Chochieva, piano; BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra conducted by Karl-Heinz Steffens. Naïve. $16.99.

Chopin: Nocturnes, Op. 9, No. 1; Op. 15, No. 2; Op. 27, Nos. 1-2; Op. 62, Nos. 1-2; Debussy: Suite Bergamasque; Preludes—Book I, No. 8; 12 Études—No. 11. Carlos Gardels, piano. MSR Classics. $14.95.

     Pianistic virtuosity is pretty much a given in concerts and on recordings nowadays: there are so many technically adept pianists that it can be hard to choose among them when they play the same works. This opens the door for pianists to become distinctive through repertoire choice rather than technique, and the results can be intriguing, as they are on a new Naïve recording featuring Zlata Chochieva and the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra under Karl-Heinz Steffens. One of the works on this CD is vastly neglected, one is almost completely unknown, and one is comparatively familiar – and even though the three pieces differ substantially in many ways, they turn out to fit together surprisingly well. Rimsky-Korsakov’s short (15-minute), Lisztian Piano Concerto is very much deserving of being heard more frequently. It is hard to understand why this ebullient, very well-scored, highly virtuosic display piece is such a rarity, unless perhaps because of its comparative superficiality and somewhat dated-sounding grand gestures, especially in its central section: it is a single-movement work but divided into sections that are, in effect, separate movements. Chochieva and Steffens attack the concerto for all it is worth, and while its musical merit may be debatable, its entertainment value really is not: it sweeps listeners along skillfully from start to finish, combining its elements derived from Liszt (to whom it is dedicated) with distinctly Russian material – it is built around a single theme that Rimsky-Korsakov took from Balakirev’s 1866 folk-song collection. What the concerto lacks in profundity it more than makes up for in the sheer delight of its structure and pianistic expectations, all of which Chochieva fulfills admirably. It is followed on this disc by the Prokofiev, which the composer famously rewrote in 1923 after the score of the original (written a decade earlier) was destroyed following the Russian Revolution. This makes the rewritten concerto 40 years newer than Rimsky-Korsakov’s; it is also more than twice as long and even more technically challenging. But there is an underlying “Russianness” here that, it turns out, complements the earlier work to a surprising degree. Prokofiev is considerably more intense and serious in this concerto than Rimsky-Korsakov is in his, and the technical challenges are of a different sort – the brief second movement, in particular, is an unusual kind of perpetuum mobile that is quite difficult to bring off successfully, making Chochieva’s handling of it particularly impressive. This is an unrelenting concerto, with its discordant first movement, its third-movement Intermezzo presenting an air of menace, and its nearly manic finale – there is no slow movement and barely any respite for pianist or audience. Chochieva and Steffens are at their best in the aptly labeled concluding Allegro tempestoso, wherein the piano and orchestra have at best an uneasy relationship in a movement of tremendous complexity and sonic range. The Prokofiev is followed here by a very different sort of Soviet-era work, the Jazz Suite by Alexandre Tsfasman (1906-1971). This suite for piano and orchestra dates to about 1945 but harks back in attitude and comparative brevity to Rimsky-Korsakov, although its rhythmic bounce is certainly that of jazz and its harmonies reflective of the 20^th century. A certain level of Impressionism underlies the work, whose four movements are titled Snowflakes, Lyrical Waltz, Polka and Career: Presto. The work is scarcely deep, but it is exceptionally pleasant, a highly suitable contrast to the Prokofiev concerto that precedes it here, and a worthy display piece in its own right. Here Chochieva and Steffens show themselves adept with what is essentially “light music,” turning from the intensity of the Prokofiev and the warm sound of the Rimsky-Korsakov to an altogether more-straightforward example of piano-and-orchestra display that is every bit as satisfying, in its way, as the other pieces on this first-rate CD are in theirs.

     The pianism is equally skillful but the choice of material less interesting on an MSR Classics CD featuring Carlos Gardels. There is nothing the slightest bit “wrong” about a pianist presenting a recital of miscellany composed by Chopin and Debussy – but the works heard here are so well-known, so often played by so many performers in so many contexts, that it is a challenge to have anything new to say about them, musically speaking. Gardels does not: he performs with sensitivity and technical adeptness, and engages more than satisfactorily with the music, but ultimately provides no particular new insight into it. The smattering of Chopin nocturnes is pleasant enough, as is the case for pretty much any set of selections of these warmly crepuscular works; and Gardels handles the music with considerable feeling, with Op. 62, No. 2 being especially heartfelt. There is, however, nothing unique or especially revelatory in his approach, nor any reason for the choice of these specific works to be heard in this specific sequence – except, of course, as a reflection of the pianist’s personal taste. That is justification enough for the material chosen, but it tends to limit the potential audience to listeners whose own preferences parallel those of Gardels. The Debussy material, for all its familiarity, comes across somewhat more successfully, with the more-upbeat portions of Suite Bergamasque being a welcome change from the similar pacing of the foundational beauties of the Chopin miniatures. Clair de lune, however, is a bit of a disappointment, with Gardels giving it a stop-and-start quality that somewhat undermines the mood. The two other Debussy works are, in effect, encores. The prelude (“The Girl with the Flaxen Hair”) is suitably sweet and gentle, while the étude (“Pour les arpèges composes”) is a gently cascading and sensitively played set of arpeggios. Everything is nicely handled on this recording, but it remains a (+++) disc for its somewhat monochromatic choice of material, and because everything Gardels offers is so commonly heard, so familiar, that the CD is mainly worth considering for someone who is just starting a classical-CD collection and does not yet have a recording (or several recordings) of this very-well-known music.