Read about Daniel Levy, and you will soon discover that he
is an exponent of “the Vincenzo Scaramuzza School”. This seems
to stand less for a particular style of playing than, as Rosanna
Consentino has described, “an accurate study of the anatomy
of the pianist, [allowing] a complete relaxation of the muscles
and tendons of the hands and arms, even when the pianist performs
the most difficult pieces of music.” The result she also describes
is a smooth, unforced and non-metallic sound, though as Martha
Argerich was also taught by Scaramuzza, this doesn’t have to
result in low-powered musicianship.
Daniel Levy has recorded widely before, and his Chopin recital
has also been reviewed here.
As you might glean from the disc timings, his Bach Well-Tempered
Clavier is done with a spacious approach, being quite a
few minutes longer cumulatively than the by no means hurried
Roger
Woodward, and perhaps a little closer to Vardo
Rumessen in some of his tempi. I’m afraid I’ve had so many
recordings of this marvellous music go through my speakers I’ve
rather given up attempting really detailed comparisons, and
Daniel Levy’s approach in Bach is certainly individual enough
to make it stand out. His playing has a magical quality at distance,
and this is certainly a beautifully made recording. Not everything
is equally successful in my opinion, but I am also of the opinion
that it would be worse to have a kind of ‘clone’ of one or other
musical forebear, and so I support Levy’s highlights, if subjectively
having one or two nits to pick.
One of the good things about this production is that each prelude
and fugue is given its individual track, making access a breeze.
Levy’s playing is superbly expressive for the most part, and
I relish his voicing in the fugues. Where I’ve most found myself
wanting to comment is in aspects of rhythm. There is a small
point about the first Fugue in C major, where there are
extra micro-gaps or elongations in the middle of and between
the fugue statements, which does draw the ear rather towards
the playing than the music, wondering how even a minor foible
like this will stack up as the counterpoint develops. This is
something which pops up frequently in this cycle. Sometimes
it serves to emphasise or highlight aspects of rhythm in a fugue,
but does run the risk of becoming a mannerism if you find yourself
feeling obliged to listen out for it each time. One extreme
rhythmic case is the Fugue in D major, where Levy sees
and plays the ‘turn’ as a rather free ornament rather than a
stable thematic feature. These notes are taken more swiftly
than usual in relation to the slow tempo taken, and this ends
up being something rather uncomfortable and distorted. There
are one or two moments where you wonder how it will all pan
out, like the sprightly Fugue in A minor. While you realise
that the rhythmic ‘air’ given to the opening fugue theme cannot
really be supported throughout the entire piece it is absolutely
the case that Levy maintains its character from start to finish,
for good or ill.
These are one or two negatives, but that’s about as far as I
would go in terms of objective criticism. All other aspects
of this recording are a question of taste, and if my taste-buds
are anything to go by this is one of the best meals you could
expect to order. Daniel Levy has a skilful way of delivering
contrasts of flavour and texture, giving a crisp touch as often
as he creates languid pools of delicious softness. I’ll abandon
the culinary analogy, but you’ll get the drift if I say this
is a richer WTC I than Angela
Hewitt, but without being cloying. Hewitt is more intimate
and does more with subtle dynamics, shaping phrasing with a
more linear character where Levy is more vertical. You can hear
this in the Fugue in C sharp major, chosen almost at
random, where Hewitt’s conversational voices weave and interact,
each given a highly distinctive character. Partly a consequence
of the more resonant recording but also due to Levy’s more spiky
handling of the theme, extra accents and stronger presentation
of secondary themes mean the musical argument has less linear
character but does have greater punch. His most magical moments
are where the tempi flow from a source seemingly other than
that which we draw on in our own humdrum universe. The Prelude
and fugue in C sharp minor are both cases in point, the
slow development of the fugue in particular giving the sense
of time standing still. The opening of the Fugue in A major
is rather special as well: that isolated first note giving
the impression that this will be the entire aphoristic piece;
such is the space which follows it. There are numbers which
are arguably too slow, such as the Prelude in A minor,
which is not only broad but also rather heavy in its tread.
Given the already mentioned contrasts of character through the
cycle as a whole these moments can however be taken in a spirit
of learning and open-mindedness, and most of the playing here
is gorgeous and relatively uncontroversial. Levy’s slowness
is a different kind to that of Glenn Gould: for instance introducing
a lyrical character to the undulating accompaniment to the opening
of the Prelude in E minor, and then using this equality
of purpose to make the second half to echo the earlier Prelude
in C minor.
The recording for this release is very good, the acoustic resonant
but not too boomy. There are one or two production issues however,
including an unfortunate chop-out of the decay in the last note
of the otherwise excitingly dramatic Prelude in B flat major.
There are also some moments where the left channel seems
to drop rather, such as in the Fugue in F minor which
ends CD 1, and strange things happen with the Fugue in G
major where the left channel drops after one and a half
notes. This seems to be a slight mismatch between sessions which
is mildly unfortunate, but not entirely disastrous unless you
are a dedicated and highly critical headphone listener. The
booklet notes for this release have an extended appreciation
of Daniel Levy by Bernard Jacobsen, and a rather briefer non-credited
text on the work at hand. Daniel Levy may not be equally likeable
in all of the Well-Tempered Clavier, but he is never
dull, and his is a voice which deserves hearing.
Dominy Clements
Daniel Levy (piano) 