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Even
though it was never a medium he was comfortable with, it doesn't
have to mean the music Sibelius wrote for solo piano cannot be enjoyed.
This second volume in Naxos' survey of Sibelius' piano music begins
with the lovely collection of Six Finnish Folk-Songs and
Ten Bagatelles. The former consist of tiny tiny pieces, as
short as 55 seconds, none longer than two minutes - all quiet and
melancholy ([1] My beloved), or tranquil and utterly sweet
([6] Wedding memories), warmly and evocatively played by
Gimse here, with much grace and natural flow, such that all six
seem to flow into each other without a break (which might have been
the intention). When one thinks of images of Sibelius in his old
age, or perhaps when one thinks of some untouched, quiet spot of
nature, this music speaks volumes.
Almost
all the pieces in this Naxos volume are present in Vol.2 of Annette
Servadei's cycle of Sibelius piano music on Olympia (OCD 632). Comparing
her performance of the Folk-songs with Gimse's, I must (with
all due respect to Ms Servadei, who has championed this music for
ages) say I prefer the new recording and performances. Maybe it's
due to Olympia's poorer sound, but Gimse brings out so much more
grace and lyricism to the music. Eg. Servadei's Wedding memories
has too much marcato, whereas Gimse's rubato evokes a smile.
The
Folk-Songs segue seamlessly into the cheery No.1 of the Ten
Bagatelles of opus 34. These were written between 1914 and
1916 - i.e. the First World War. Popular opinion is that Sibelius
(right, a photo from 1915) wrote these "marketable" pieces
because he was in financial debt (then again, he was almost always
in debt) then, but worse than before now that he had no access to
the lucrative German market via Breitkopf and Härtel. The Bagatelles
too are short pieces, only two of which breach the 2-minute mark.
All
are charming, quintessentially Romantic pieces - ranging from the
abstract and charming - the Valse, the Air de danse,
the Mazurka, or the Boutade; to the serene and pensive,
say the Rêverie (or later, in Till trånaden,
or "To longing"), to the more descriptive Danse pastorale
or Joueur de harpe (harp-player), the latter with its
eloquent wisps and pauses highly reminscent of the harp parts of
the great tone poem, The Bard.
Like the Folk-Songs, the Bagatelles also end with
a spot of nostalgia, in this case, the wistful Souvenir.
Håvard
Gimse (b.1966) proves to be a fabulous advocate of these works -
his sense of curve and rubato, of dynamic levels, brings and breathes
life into this music. The sense of kinship with their moods, along
with the fine interpretation of the lyric qualities of the scores,
make for a most remarkable recording.
A quick
ride on Kavaljeren ("The Cavalier") is followed
by a 46-second Spagnuolo, described as "an unusual Scandinavian
excursion to the south" - it ends abruptly and I seriously
wonder what concise message Sibelius was thinking of. The Morceau
romantique aptly describes what this album is full of - morsels
of romantic music (but not necessarily morsels of quality) - here
you can hear the expressive abilities of Gimse's natural swells
and capacity for subtle momentum. Listen also to his graceful shift
from slow to fast section in the following Dance Intermezzo.
My point once again is: though this is not exactly "highbrow"
Sibelius music, it does not mean we cannot enjoy it. There is no
need to believe that everything that comes from a genius must be
of an overwhelming intellectual quality.
With
the end of the short individual pieces in the middle of the album,
we return to the world of the pensive and lyrical in the Pensées
lyriques, op.40. Again there are a range of emotions in
the opus, from the light sorrow of the opening Valsette and
Chant sans paroles, to the cheery/impish Humoresque and
Rondoletto, and the dignified Minuetto. Berceuse
is always a good word with Sibelius, a name he gives to some of
his sweetest but often poignant little pieces. The 1-minute Scherzando
is rather humorously cheeky with its winks and skips, but next to
it is one of the loveliest gems on this disc, the Petite sérénade
- all mellow serenity and heartwarming lyricism, with Gimse at his
best.
Kyllikki,
op.41 is among Sibelius' most famous piano works. In three parts,
the name refers to the maiden abducted by Lemminkäinen, in
the Kalevala. This music though, is not narrative, but instead
seems to depict the moods surrounding the legend. The Largamente
is powerful and stern music, heavy with momentum, perhaps representing
Lemminkäinen. Whereas Annette Servadei (Vol.3 of the Olympia
cycle OCD 633) sounds fierce, Gimse brings out the rather more regal
and heroic tone of the music. The
Andante is by turns deeply melancholic yet not lacking in
moments of high lyric beauty. Servadei's version is very dark and
gloomy, while Gimse's is sorrowfully pensive; both pianists relish
the soaring lyric theme and also do well in the final Commodo
movement
The
playback quality on the Naxos cycle is far superior to the Olympia
cycle (a pity for Servadei, sincerely) and bodes well for future
volumes. Well, my fellow nutcases, do not hesitate: go get this.
The
INKPOT SIBELIUS NUTCASE is planning
to go to Finland this July. Please do not ambush any Inkpotters
you may see at the airport.
If you wish to
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849:
6.3.2001 © ISN
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