A "Hatto original",
but a minor one. "Pour le Tombeau
de Paul Dukas" was popped in at
the end of "Hatto’s" Dukas
disc, where the actual Dukas works were
played by Tor Espen Aspaas. That "Hatto
original" has already been discussed
by me.
The story is much as
before. In the Hattified version the
sound has been damped down a little
and the piano spread out to disguise
the acoustic. The time was stretched
by a mere 5 seconds. Looking at some
salient points along the way, at 0:29
"Hatto" is one second behind,
at 1:27 she is still one second behind,
at 2:26 she is four seconds behind and
finishes, as I have said, five seconds
behind. These differences might fool
anyone trying to synchronize the two
but don’t really affect our conception
of the performance. An artist’s own
performances are likely to vary more
than five seconds from one to another
without the actual interpretation changing
noticeably. The different sound picture
does alter the effect, though. Fortunately
I am now saved from getting egg on my
face, but if I had listened to one after
another without knowing they were the
same, I may not have suspected anything.
I may have simply heard two similar
and equally good performances. Listening
specifically there are no lack of points
to make me realize they are the
same – I’m not questioning the identity
of this one. Perhaps the point is that
this austere, mainly chordal piece does
not call for "interpretation"
the way a Chopin Mazurka does and I
wouldn’t expect another performance
to sound all that different from this
one.
Having dealt with the
"Hatto" angle, I have to admit
that I am probably not the best equipped
of MusicWeb critics to deal with this
CD, not because I don’t like de Falla
but because I don’t know the music very
well and don’t have any alternative
versions. I do have fond memories of
my piano teacher during my Edinburgh
years, Colin Kingsley, playing the Fantasia
Bética with enormous relish.
Kingsley had been an orchestral pianist
in his early years and when I once asked
his advice on how to play a black-note
glissando without tearing my fingers
to pieces he told me that, under the
cover of the orchestra pit, he used
to whip a plastic comb out of his pocket
to play the glissandos in de Falla’s
ballet scores. He played them "properly"
in recital, of course!
The most important
competitor must surely be Alicia de
Larrocha, but she plays only the mature
works, adding the ballet transcriptions
on her Decca version and some Montsalvatge
on RCA. Heissier has more of the early
works and also adds the ballet transcriptions,
but I can’t see any alternative if you
want the original piano music complete,
and I certainly can’t imagine anyone
being disappointed with these performances.
Miguel Baselga was
born in Luxemburg of Spanish parents
in 1966. He has been playing since the
age of six and I was interested to see
that he studied with Eduardo del Pueyo,
a notable Spanish pianist who is virtually
forgotten today. Baselga presented de
Falla’s complete piano music in Madrid
in 1996, on the occasion of the fiftieth
anniversary of the composer’s death,
having set it all down in the studio
a few months earlier. Since then he
has begun a complete Albeniz cycle for
Bis which has now reached its fifth
volume.
De Falla was a slow
developer and the Four Spanish Pieces,
written when he was in his early thirties
and had moved to Paris to broaden his
experience, may be considered the threshold
of his maturity. Not all the earlier
pieces were published and the self-critical
composer did not wish them to be so,
but in all truth he had nothing to be
ashamed of. At least as Baselga plays
them they have charm, droll humour -
in The March of the Dwarfs –
and frequent poignant touches which
sound at least a little Spanish. The
Canción begins like a
spare Gymnopédie, though
the Satie-like simplicity is slightly
lost later. Less interesting than these,
I’d say, is the more ambitious Allegro
de concierto, not really the sort
of piece de Falla was born to write.
The Four Spanish
Pieces are extremely attractive
and thoroughly Spanish. Here Baselga
proves to be a true product of the Spanish
school as handed down from Frank Marshall.
No impressionistic washes of pedal,
but every detail crisp and clear, the
different melodic lines separately coloured
and allowed to dialogue in easy counterpoint.
The rhythms are by turns exhilarating
and gently lilting, with a caressing
rubato that never turns into distortion.
In short, even though I haven’t heard
de Larrocha in these pieces, Baselga
seems to me close to the style I know
from her recordings of Granados.
The Fantasia bética
is de Falla’s one outright masterpiece
for solo piano. Its extreme difficulty
has maybe discouraged performances though
it invariably brings the house down
when it is heard. Baselga gives it all
the flare it needs but without any obvious
showing off. It is a very musical performance.
Pour le Tombeau
de Claude Debussy was originally
written for guitar. In his excellent
notes, Andrés Ruiz Tarazona describes
it as "a languid and misty habanera".
Possibly he imagined a more impressionistic
performance. Baselga keeps the textures
as clean as a guitar would – that instrument
has no sustaining pedal of course –
and presents his view most convincingly.
The famous "Song
of the Volga Boatmen" is subjected
to some very original harmonies, reflecting
de Falla’s gradual move towards Stravinskian
austerity in his later years. Pour
le Tombeau de Paul Dukas goes a
stage further along this route though
I have to confess to finding it the
least interesting work here.
Altogether a most interesting
and excellently recorded programme.
Unless you prefer to have the ballet
transcriptions – but the music sounds
better still on the orchestra – this
is the obvious disc for those wanting
to get to know de Falla as a composer
for the piano.
Christopher Howell
Miguel Baselga (piano) 
