Search - Isaac Albeniz, Marc-Andre Hamelin :: Albéniz: Iberia

Lopsided dexterity

F. P. Walter | Albuquerque, NM | 06/20/2005

(3 out of 5 stars)

"After reading enthusiastic notices in Gramophone Magazine (Bryce Morrison) and here on Amazon (Messrs. Scott and Morrison below), I ordered Marc-Andre Hamelin's IBERIA with considerable eagerness. Yet when I ultimately listened to it, my bottom-line reaction was disappointment. Yes, I instantly admired many aspects of Hamelin's work, but as early as "Almeria" I had a nagging sense that something was missing -- and a large something at that; by the time I'd reached "Jerez" I was fairly sure where the problem lay, and after auditioning the whole performance a second time through, I'd confirmed my fears.



Down to cases. Hamelin's Steinway has a lean, pingy tone and a fast, light action. Thanks to this instrument (and to shrewdly chosen tempos), Hamelin produces exceptionally clear, fastidious playing in all the knotty finger passages, so "El Corpus en Sevilla,"and "El Albaicin" are as shipshape, crisp, and transparent as you're ever likely to hear. But there's trouble with the basic sound itself. First, due to a combination of the instrument's limitations and his own, Hamelin fails to generate an authentic, full-bodied fortissimo anywhere on these discs -- when "Triana" calls for grit and power, de Larrocha easily outplays him, to say nothing of such oldsters as Rosenthal, Rubinstein, or even Backhaus.



Second and even more crucially, the many cantilena episodes point up a major hole in Hamelin's technical apparatus. To oversimplify the matter while furnishing a sizeable grain of truth: he can't play legato and he can't turn a phrase. Listen to the cantabile playing in "Evocacion," "Rodena," "Almeria," and "Jerez": his tone is thin and glassy, there's no real line, and dynamics are frequently restricted to pp-ppp -- which means that nuances or inflections are marginal, and such niceties as pedal tintings, echo effects, and tapered cadences are nowhere to be heard. True, the snap and tidiness of Hamelin's passagework often saves things, but not always -- among the fillers here, the meditative, quarter-hour "La Vega" comes off as bland, colorless, and interminable.



So what's wrong with this picture? Well, a pianist with a poor sound, according to the pedagogue Pedro de Alcantara, "may have great dexterity, which is but one aspect of technique, but he does not have a great technique. A complete technique implies the ability to play legato and sostenuto, in a wide range of dynamics and articulations, in every imaginable colour." Unfortunately this kind of balanced, encompassing mechanism is a scarce commodity these days -- Hamelin's shortcomings, sadly, are shared by many of our current East Coast conservatory products (and even by some big-name outsiders, e.g, Kissin).



It's dismaying, too, that Hamelin could follow so closely on Rubinstein's heels (not only here but in his Szymanowski and Villa-Lobos projects) and glean so little from the experience -- especially since Rubinstein's work models just what Hamelin most needs to learn: production of a huge, deep, columnar fortissimo, as well as round, floating, prismatic tone from ppp to f (the equivalent of a great singer's mezza voce). At the very least Hamelin needs to consider giving up the ease and safety of his shallow-action Steinway and adjusting to a more neutral specimen with greater solidity and range: with such instruments, after all, several prior greats -- not only Rubinstein but the likes of Gieseking, Novaes, Rachmaninoff, Richter, and Kempff -- had no trouble generating the round, full-throated legato phrases that most of today's pianists can't.



The other fillers here are of variable interest: Hamelin is too earnest and literal to extract much humor from Yvonne's comic stumblings, while he's small-boned and dainty (though immaculate) in the inevitable appendix of "Navarra," a piece Albeniz disliked and abandoned. It's normally heard in a completion by his protege Severac, but Hamelin presents an alternative: an extended version composed by William Bolcom back in his student days. Whereas Severac's edition is in simple ABA song form (and heartily applauded as such, thanks in part to Rubinstein's early ministrations), Bolcom stretches the piece into a sonata structure that often sounds merely busy and clattery. And since it winds up in exactly the same place as Severac's, the advantage is unclear.



Where do you go for your desert-island IBERIA? Needless to say, all of de Larrocha's recordings are authoritative, but for power, dash, humor, earthiness, and a generous palette of gaudy colors, her 1962 Madrid traversal (EMI 764505) is arguably the richest, fullest statement of this music. This set also includes Albeniz's instantly adorable SUITE ESPANOLA plus de Larrocha's zesty "Navarra" in the standard version -- which you may want to supplement with Rubinstein's celebrated revision of Severac (in stereo on BMG 63042) where the Polish pianist augments the big chordal theme, streamlines the accompaniment, and sweeps through the whole thing with unique power, speed, and style. As for integral versions that skip "Navarra," the top runner-up is the little-known Ciccolini set from 1966 (EMI 76906), balletic, muscular, as transparent as Hamelin's but with a good deal more color and richness of line.



So does this mean Messrs. Morrison, Scott, and Morrison are mistaken about Hamelin's new offering? Not entirely. As a backup set this release has several things to hold the interest: lovely recorded sound, offbeat filler pieces, and plenty of preternaturally neat fingerwork.

"

Easily the Equal of Larrocha's Third and Best 'Iberia'

J Scott Morrison | Middlebury VT, USA | 05/19/2005

(5 out of 5 stars)

"I never, ever thought I'd write anything like this: This traversal of Albéniz's masterpiece, 'Iberia,' is the equal of, perhaps even better than, the third and last recording of these works by Alicia de Larrocha. As recently as last October I wrote a glowing review of a release of Larrocha's digital recording and honestly felt it would never be superseded. Then I heard that Marc-André Hamelin was recording the set -- actually he told me backstage after a recital some months ago that it was already 'in the can' -- and I eagerly anticipated its release, wondering how it would be. I am a huge admirer of Hamelin's playing. For me, he represents the ne plus ultra of technical skill coupled with the soul of a true musician. He has always been given superb sound by the engineers at Hyperion; I knew the set would sound fabulous, and it does. The piano is surrounded by ambient space and has a warmth and body that only the best piano recordings have. But much more important is the thoughtfulness, the grace, the virtuosic fire Hamelin brings to these pieces. Especially in Books III and IV Hamelin outplays de Larrocha. The six sections of Books III and IV were written at a much more virtuosic level by Albéniz; he wrote them for the technically superior Catalan pianist, Joaquim Malats, whereas the first two books had been for the more modestly skilled Blanche Selva. Just listen to the fireworks in the final piece, 'Eritaña,' and you'll see what I mean. But also in the more melancholy, lyrical pieces, such as 'Jerez,' Hamelin imbues the music with such utter musicality that one simply sits back, soaks it up and notices the tears beginning to form in one's eyes. I may have skipped over mention of Books I and II, but they, too, are all one could ask for. The first piece, 'Evocación,' is so inward and melancholy, and so languorous, that one knows we're in for a lovely journey. It is followed immedidately by 'El puerto,' whose boisterous high spirits is infectious. Hamelin may not be Spanish but he manages the tricky Spanish rhythms here and throughout the set with aplomb and abandon. And so on to the end of Book II in 'Triana,' with its tricky cross-rhythms.



The big surprise for me, aside from the superb quality of Hamelin's 'Iberia,' are the other pieces included here, some of which I'd never heard before. 'La vega' (1897) is generally considered Albéniz's first characteristic piano piece. It was to have been part of a never-written series called 'Alhambra,' but it stands alone. He wrote that in this piece one can see 'the entire plain [vega] of Granada, as contemplated from the Alhambra.' It is a sixteen-minute evocation of that landscape and is utterly lovely. It is mostly serene music with occasional interruptions. 'España: Souvenirs' is also from 1897, a two piece set comprising 'Preludio' and 'Asturias.' It, too, is mostly serenely reflective, like 'La vega,' and given a haunting reading here. A bit of a ringer in this recital is the two-piece set, 'Yvonne en visite!,' written for 'children large and small' for the Schola Cantorum in Paris, where Albéniz lived after 1894. Particularly amusing is the Satiesque second piece, 'Joyeuse rencontre et quelques pénibles événements!!' ('Merry meeting and some painful events!!'), with its imitation of the halting playing of a young student pianist.



Even more interesting is Bill Bolcom's completion of 'Navarra,' left incomplete at Albéniz's tragically early death at 49. It is generally heard in a completion done by Albéniz's student, Déodat de Séverac, who pretty much brought the piece to a sudden end after about five minutes. Bolcom extends it, composing an extended (and bang-up) recapitulation of Albéniz's opening material so that the piece feels more formally complete, lasting about nine minutes. It is a neat job, and Hamelin plays it beautifully.



Urgently recommended, even to fans of de Larrocha's 'Iberia' recordings.



TT= 126'



Scott Morrison"

Fluid and sensitive

philvscott | Marrickville, New South Wales Australia | 06/07/2005

(5 out of 5 stars)

"Great to hear Marc-Andre Hamelin tackle this beautiful and tremendously difficult pianistic masterpiece. (Quite a lot of it is written on three staves: there's too much going on for the usual two.) Actually, "tackle" is hardly the word. As you would expect, the more demanding the piano writing becomes, the more fluid is Hamelin's response. There is never a sense of strain, or that he is coping with the notes at the expense of rhythmic crispness. All the bass lines, melodies and rhythmic figures are caressed and outlined, regardless of the torrents of scale passages which may be happening at the same time (for example, in Book 2's Triana and Book 3's Lavapies.) Hamelin is a sensitive virtuoso.

That's not to say de Larrocha is outclassed. She still has an authentic Spanish bravura. In the Double Decca release of her 1973 recording of Iberia, she also has a far better coupling in her masterly rendition of Granados' Goyescas. Hamelin's couplings are interesting but not essential listening. Larrocha's earliest recording, now on EMI, is more devil-may-care. Her playing back in the 60s was brilliant and the piano has a slightly out of tune tang: it could be in the back of a Spanish tavern (which is right, in a way).

Barenboim doesn't quite achieve this level of technical prowess, but his heavier touch and great musicality make his Iberia (Books 1 and 2 only) a serious masterwork: there's not a whiff of the salon about his version- which can't always be said for Hamelin. I haven't heard Nicholas Unwin, but judging from his playing of the music of Joachim Nin he is well worth hearing too.

This is great music, filled with tunes you can't get out of your head. Virtually every version available has 5 stars. Hamelin should have 6: his control and dexterity are phenomenal."