Hélène Grimaud’s recent traversal of Brahms’
First Piano Concerto at London’s Festival Hall was convincing
testimony to her continuing artistic development. This Bach
disc is, if anything, more impressive. It deserves to join Martha
Argerich’s legendary DG disc (DG Originals 463 604-2) as an
eloquent argument for Bach on the piano. As Grimaud herself
puts it, “the instrument you play hardly matters – the message
transcends the vehicle”, hence also the inclusion of transcriptions
by Liszt, Busoni and Rachmaninov. Her choice of transcribers
is mainstream, though. These three are the most famous arrangers
of Bach’s music for piano and, as projects such as Hyperion’s
Bach transcriptions have proven, many other fascinating arrangements
exist.
Grimaud states that in making the disc, she wanted
to get closer to Bach’s music, “to the secret of its universal
power”. She speaks of Glenn Gould’s “courage”, while she admires
Edwin Fischer (whose recordings of Bach Concertos remain among
the greatest), Perahia, Schiff and Hewitt. Her synaesthesia
surfaces, too, albeit via metaphor. Talking of the Rachmaninov
transcription, she states that “for me its E major tonality
indicates sunrise”.
The recital is exquisitely programmed. Each transcription
is preceded by a “pure” Prelude and Fugue in the same key, while
that which precedes the Bach/Busoni also echoes the D minor
of the Concerto. Two pieces of Bach-proper begin. The C minor
Prelude and Fugue from “Das wohltemperierte Clavier” Book 1
features an exquisitely-voiced Fugue, balancing the remorseless
semi-quavers of the Prelude - although even here Grimaud is
most sensitive.
The Prelude to the C sharp minor Prelude and
Fugue, BWV849, could hardly be more different. Restrained and
reverent, Grimaud holds the attention while retaining a single,
low dynamic level. The Fugue itself opens almost inaudibly and
grows gradually but inexorably in a perfectly graded crescendo.
The Concerto, which Grimaud directs herself,
is very varied in touch and dynamic, more immediately feminine
than Edwin Fischer in his famous 1933 account - now on a difficult
to locate EMI Références disc. It is a great compliment to Grimaud
that her reading in no way loses out to Fischer’s, but rather
complements it. The upper strings sound rather distanced in
the slow movement, their whispered counterpoints to the long
single-line piano melody like ghosts, as if they deliberately
force us to seek them out. This is mesmeric playing. The finale
is spotlessly delivered, although here a touch more energy would
have carried it through more convincingly.
Grimaud follows this with the D major Prelude
and Fugue, BWV875, with a brief Fugue that features superlative,
unrushed articulation. On the Bach/Busoni Chaconne, Grimaud
poetically comments that, “you feel you’re dancing with your
own shadow”. This is an altogether grander edifice to negotiate,
and Grimaud fearlessly brings it to majestic climaxes. Grimaud
portrays this as a varied landscape, using at times liquid articulation
to contrast with the more immediately imposing elements.
Interesting that the A minor Prelude and Fugue
follows, where the fugue’s big-boned delivery seems to grow
organically as an offshoot of the Chaconne. The A minor
tonality links to the Bach/Liszt transcription of the organ
fugue in the same key. Grimaud seeks beauty here, and finds
it in abundance. She also appears to revel in the sense of space
that Bach’s unfolding argument creates. More intimate is the
E major Prelude and Fugue from Book II, before the disc finishes
on the bright Bach/Rachmaninov Prelude in E.
This is a major release. The piano sound is expertly
realised. Grimaud is still young (she was born in 1969) – on
the present evidence, one has to ask, just what can she go on
to achieve?. Future releases are eagerly awaited.
Colin Clarke
Hélène Grimaud (piano)
