Full marks to BIS for
presenting these arrangements and opening
the window onto how one of Mozart’s
own students saw two of the ‘biggest’
of his teacher’s concertos. Hummel studied
with Mozart from 1785-1787 (contemporary,
therefore, with the works on this disc).
German-based Japanese pianist Fumiko
Shiraga and her friends play the arrangements
for all they are worth, as if daring
us, the listeners, to hear them as ‘second-bests’
at our peril. Fascinating, also, are
the decorations to the solo line courtesy
of Hummel. He can hardly be blamed for
these – he was a major virtuoso in his
own right, and they give us insight
into how Mozart was viewed at this time
and what liberties might have been taken.
What’s more, they are never overblown
or unstylish.
This is not the first
disc of this type to come from Shiraga’s
fingers – she has recorded chamber versions
of the Chopin Concerti for piano, string
quartet and double-bass (CD847) and
the first two Beethoven Concertos (with
the Bremen Soloists, CD1177). Shiraga
plays with the utmost musicality, a
trait shared equally by her partners
here. Scaling down the forces for the
‘Sturm und Drang’ of the Don Giovanni-isch
D minor and the large gestures of the
grandiose C major, K503 may seem a risk
on Hummel’s part, but it certainly pays
off. Perhaps what makes the disc work
so well also is Shiraga’s attention
to detail, be it phraseology, pedalling,
articulation or tonal shadings.
It is admittedly very
strange to hear the piano joining in
the opening tutti of the D minor, a
sort of cross between continuo and proto-soloist,
and the magic of the piano’s quiet first
entry is somewhat diminished because
the contrast of timbres is, naturally,
spoilt. Here it emerges from the preceding
music. Still Shiraga goes on to delight
the ear with even and clear semi-quavers.
She only gets carried away at one point
(an octave ascent at 7’29). But the
really interesting aspect on this is
the extended cadenza (by Hummel, of
course). Harmonically more daring than
its surroundings and quite wide-ranging
in its emotional scope, it uses the
lower register to great effect and is
well worth hearing. Shiraga charts its
course confidently.
It is Shiraga’s musicality
that impresses throughout, and nowhere
more than in the slow movement. Here
the chamber music is entirely apt, and
the initial civility from all sides
contrasts well with the more dramatic
sections. Shiraga always ensures there
is no blurring in the bass, and has
various opportunities to show off her
characterful right-hand staccati. A
shame that the finale could have been
that much more unbuttoned in its explosion
of D minor energy (the opening arpeggiation
is hardly the upwardly-moving rocket
it can be). Yet there is real verve
to this Allegro assai overall. It will
not disappoint.
If the smaller resources
might be seen to have problems with
the angst of No. 20, it would be the
celebratory aspect of No. 25 that should
be belittled. Yet something of the scale
is maintained, and contrasts are impressive.
Shiraga’s finger-work, so clear and
pearly in the D minor, is confirmed
here as a thing to treasure. The delight
in chamber interaction from all quarters
is pure joy (it is impossible to single
out a single player throughout the disc,
really). The cadenza is superb – a real
flight of the imagination. Just very
occasionally the thought that Shiraga
should just let go does rear its head,
but nevertheless there is so much to
enjoy here this should not seriously
put anyone off.
The slow movement brings
with it some lovely, tasteful ornaments
and a marvellously expressive piano/flute
duet (around 4’42). The civilised aspect
of the finale fits these forces well
(the transferral of ‘horn-signal’ gestures
is surprisingly effective).
There is much joy to
be gleaned from this product, and Shiraga
is to be congratulated on her ongoing
series of ‘chamber concertos’. What
with Shiraga and Ogawa, BIS are sitting
on a veritable pianistic goldmine …
Colin Clarke
Fumiko Shiraga (piano); Henrik Wiese (flute);
Peter Clemente (violin); Tibor Bényi (cello).
