It’s not as if we are
short of recent recordings of Cage’s
Sonatas & Interludes for prepared
piano. Against this background you
might be asking yourself the wisdom
of hauling out a version over thirty
years of vintage. To start with, the
recording certainly doesn’t show its
age. There is virtually no tape hiss,
and with the wealth of detail and range
of dynamics I would bet there are few
who would even guess this was an analogue
recording.
For those of you who
are intrigued but uninitiated into the
world of the prepared piano, the strings
of the instrument are variously treated
by having bolts, rubber bungs, screws
and other objects shoved between them,
something which always has piano technicians
in fits. The instrument is then played
conventionally, but the results – surprisingly
– are often incredibly beautiful, invariably
strange and fascinating, often reminding
one of exotic Eastern instruments like
gamelans, bells and gongs.
This piece is, literally,
all about preparation. Cage provides
a diagram – reproduced in the booklet
– which maps to minute measurements
the positions at which each object should
be placed. Pianos vary enormously in
size and proportion however, and John
Tilbury describes his sensible, intuitive
approach in the booklet notes: ‘if I
can produce a better sound at 2⅓
inches rather than 2⅞ inches,
it is unlikely Cage and I will fall
out over (a fraction of) an inch. So
I dispense with the ruler and rely primarily
on the ear and my own taste.’ Despite
Cage’s ‘chance music’ approach he was
in fact highly specific in the way his
pieces should be prepared and performed.
When he heard what a bunch of us students
at The Hague Conservatoire had made
of one of his aleatoric works he summed
up our attempt (this was in 1988) with
a gentle but emphatic phrase which will
live with me to my grave: ‘You’re doing
it all wrong!’
All of that sense of
Eastern tradition and mystic philosophy
is atmospherically reproduced in Tilbury’s
performance. The central tenet of tranquillity
is never entirely absent, even when
the notes are flying in all directions.
In this way, the ‘jazzy’ moments are
more often than not restrained and understated,
although all of the rhythmic touch and
feel are present. These pieces are in
some way like J.S. Bach’s Preludes and
Fugues – there is never likely to be
only one version which answers all of
the questions which such a fascinating
and complex cycle of work produces.
My usual reference with these pieces
has been Gérard Frémy
on the Etcetera label, but I have a
feeling I might have lent this disc
to someone years ago – never to be seen
again. Comparing like with like, at
least in terms of approximate price,
I managed to find my copy of Boris Berman’s
1998 recording on Naxos (8.554345) and
found myself becoming equally involved
in both performances. Even with widely
varying timbre and tempi, there isn’t
so much a feeling of right or wrong
in either reading. You might prefer
Tilbury’s fleeting, dancing and secretive
Sonata II, but find the springy
bass note sound more fascinating with
Berman in Sonata III, as opposed
to Tilbury, whose strings rattle rather
more like a spoon in a teacup. Berman’s
remarkable palette in the First Interlude
rings, knocks and resonates in fascinating
patterns, but you might prefer Tilbury’s
subtle fantasy in Sonata V, where
Berman has some sticky-out notes, and
a heavier, more stubbornly stable rhythmic
pulse.
In general it is Berman
who sounds as if he’s having more fun
with the music, Tilbury who has the
more serious, spiritual approach. Both
of these, or any of the other versions
you might find, offer their own perspective
on these endlessly fascinating pieces,
but why spend a fortune when you can
get such joys for so little.
Cage was a massively
influential thinker and composer, and
in these works you can, for instance,
find out where Arvo Pärt found
the germ of his piano motif for ‘Tabula
Rasa’ (Sonata VI). You may have
to suspend your expectations when it
comes to piano recitals, but an open
and receptive mind will find almost
infinite marvels in these works. You
could do far worse than start this journey
of discovery with John Tilbury’s excellent
recording, and you certainly won’t regret
adding his interpretation to your collection
if you seek an alternative reading to
a version in your own collection.
Dominy Clements
John Tilbury (prepared piano) 
for
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