(++++) SONORITIES

Ravel: Complete Works for Solo Piano, Volume 2—Menuet antique; Menuet en ut dièse mineur; Introduction et Allegro; Gaspard de la Nuit; Menuet sur le nom de Haydn; Prélude; Le Tombeau de Couperin; Berceuse sur le nom de Gabriel Fauré. Vincent Larderet, piano. AVIE. $19.99. 

     It is taking quite a while for the planned four-volume set of Ravel’s complete solo-piano music played by Vincent Larderet to appear: the first AVIE release in the series came out almost two years ago. But the recordings are worth waiting for with only a modicum of impatience, partly because Larderet has a firm grasp not only of Ravel’s musical style but also of the particular care with which the composer shapes the actual sound of the piano to accommodate his Impressionistic presentations and portrayals. As with the first disc in Larderet’s series, the works on this second CD are something of a hodgepodge – but happily, and unlike the situation on the first disc, this time the pieces are presented in chronological order, making it possible to hear the ways in which Ravel’s style evolved (and did not evolve) during the nearly three-decade-long period in which the music was composed. Larderet finds and brings forth grace, fluidity and coloristic sensitivity in all eight works on this CD, and is cognizant enough of Ravel’s intentions to apply those characteristics in the different ways that the pieces require. Thus, Menuet antique (1895) has an emphatic sound bordering on the harsh, while Menuet en ut dièse mineur (1904, published posthumously) is altogether gentler. Somewhat similar sonically and in mood to the C-sharp-minor Menuet is the slower and much-more-extended portion of Introduction et Allegro (1905), here receiving its world première recording in a transcription by Lucien Garban. Next on the disc, Gaspard de la Nuit (1908) offers one of the clearest of all examples of Ravel’s use of specific piano ranges and techniques for illustrative purposes, with Larderet perfectly capturing the waterfall effects of the first movement, the strangeness of the scene-painting in Le Gibet, and the very different oddity – or rather set of oddities – pervading the quicksilver changes in Scarbo. After this, Menuet sur le nom de Haydn (1909) returns to some extent to the sound world of Menuet antique, but now with much more assurance and with unashamed dissonance grafted onto the old dance form. Prélude (1913) is nuanced in its delicacy, while the six movements of Le Tombeau de Couperin (1914-1917) blend many of the aural elements of the earlier works on this disc – differently emphasized from piece to piece, and particularly well-contrasted by Larderet to showcase, for example, the comparative density of the opening Prélude with the much-greater-transparency of the Fugue that follows. The Rigaudon, Forlane, Menuet and concluding Toccata emerge here not only as differing thematic explorations but also as different sound worlds, collectively exploring a musical universe to which the rhythmic intensity of the Forlane and the gentle lyricism of the Menuet belong equally. The CD concludes with Berceuse sur le nom de Gabriel Fauré (1922) – also a world-première recording of a Garban transcription – and here the prettiness and tender warmth, with occasional hints of dissonance, combine to produce a feeling that is both lullaby-like and somewhat disquieting, as if to suggest that sleep will not necessarily be accompanied by untroubled dreams. 

     Collectively, the works on this disc showcase Ravel as a more-variegated piano composer than he is sometimes credited with being, and show how thoroughly Larderet understands not only the notes to be played but also the aural context in which to play them. Even more than the first Larderet disc, this second volume confirms the pianist as a top-of-the-line interpreter of Ravel – leading to a hope that the remaining two planned discs in the sequence will be released somewhat more expeditiously than the first two.