The cover of the booklet for this CD has Luciano
Berio smiling in avuncular fashion in the general direction
of Andrea Bacchetti’s portrait, and in essence this symbolises
part of what makes this disc something a bit special. Andrea
Bacchetti writes his own preface to the booklet notes, ‘In memory
of the Maestro’, in which he describes his association and friendship
with the great composer. They met when Bacchetti was only 12,
and Berio’s interest and encouragement nourished Bacchetti’s
artistic growth and development thereafter. Advising him on
interpretation on numerous occasions where Berio attended performances,
it was Andrea Bacchetti who was given the task of performing
all of Berio’s solo piano works at a concert in the composer’s
honour at the Musea della Scala in Milan in 2001, and Berio
also provided advice and expressed his satisfaction with the
recordings on this disc. My own link to Berio is far more tenuous,
though I do have a line through my old composition teacher Louis
Andriessen, who was a pupil of Berio in the 1960s. These lines
back through a kind of educational history always used to seem
a bit far-fetched to me, but in fact it can be quite revealing
to see how, on occasion, the later generation teacher falls
back on the methods and ideas of the ‘parent’. As a result I
can think of a few examples where the footsteps of Berio have
had their imprint on my own experience, and have certainly enhanced
an understanding and appreciation of his own musical language.
The programme on this disc follows the works
as far as possible in chronological order. The first and earliest
piece is the non-serial Petite suite pour piano, which
was written in 1947 while Berio was a student at the Milan Conservatory.
Cast in six short movements with traditional titles such as
Prelude, Gavotte and Gigue used in an ironic sense,
the sparkling wit and inventiveness Berio shows as a young man
is highly infectious, and the little nods and winks cast in
various composers’ directions are so numerous and fleeting that
the effect can be breathtaking. Berio’s skill in this piece
is in that of adapting styles and characteristics from other
composers in such a way that the pieces never sound derivative
– eclectic yes, but transformed in such a cheeky and virtuoso
fashion that the work has an irrepressible energy and life all
of its own. This kind of music suits Bacchetti’s lightening
technique very well, and serves to introduce his reliable sense
of taste and touch in the way he portrays each musical picture
with ideal weight or wit.
The Cinq variazioni throw us into the
deep end of serial composition right away. The variations are
presented on one track, and without a score it would seem a
tough job to say exactly where one is in the piece. There are
various different atmospheres and moods which define certain
regions of the work however, so one can have a good guess. Atmospherics
and moodiness are not really the right words for such a piece,
whose intensity is pretty much white hot, even where the notes
are more widely spaced and the contours less percussive. The
booklet notes refer to Webern’s Variations Op.27 as a
reference or starting point for understanding this piece, but
as Carmelo Di Gennaro also mentions, the kind of rigid structuralised
direction which Boulez took in his serialism is given a more
lyrical touch in Berio. This is apparent from the opening bars,
but don’t expect lyricism in terms of a romantic aria – the
difference is more one of national character. If Webern is aromatic
Austrian wine and Boulez a flinty Pouilly, then Berio marries
the two with a certain amount of Mediterranean warmth: animated
chatter and usually amicable argument, moments of loving tenderness
and again that sense of driving, unstoppable energy: to conclude
the metaphor; a vintage from the Rossese grape, which feels
young and fresh even after over 50 years on the cellar shelf.
The Sequenza series of works have become
Berio’s trademark solo masterpieces, and with the Sequenza IV
for solo piano it is the recording of Aki
Takahashi which has been my most recent reference. Always
pushing at the boundaries of the technical possibilities of
the instrument, Berio wrote that this piece “is to be considered
a journey of exploration through the known and the unknown regions
of instrumental colour and articulation.” This stops short of
preparing the strings of the piano, or having the player pluck
or damp them by hand, something which was very much the trend
for the time. Andrea Bacchetti’s performance is highly assured,
though with a more brittle and compact feeling than Takahashi’s.
This is a point at which I have to mention the recording quality
on this disc, which, despite the Decca label, is not the finest
in the world. If you listen to the Takahashi performance you
have much more insight into the subtle myriad of colours and
nuances going on inside the piano than with Bacchetti’s recording.
This is a shame, since Bacchetti’s performance is every bit
as intense and engaging, but with a dry acoustic mixed with
the feeling that the microphones are placed too far away to
catch all the detail, one is always straining to hear the smallest
intricacies in the softer passages. The feeling with the sound
on this disc is that of a live recital, with the microphones
stand placed further back up the aisle so that the set doesn’t
get in the way of the view of the audience. It’s not a bad sound,
but when you hear the alternative on the Mode label it does
sound rather distant and opaque.
Never mind. Andrea Bachetti’s playing is full
of sparkle and lively, poetic energy. What I like about his
playing throughout this disc is the feeling of a synergy with
the music, to the extent that the musical language sounds like
a familiar narrative or discourse. It’s like when you hear Shakespeare
played by actors for whom the bard’s verse is as natural as
the flow of blood through the veins. When presented with such
symbiotic ease the difficulties of the language fall away, leaving
the listener able to concentrate on and revel in the unfolding
drama.
Not long after Sequenza V, Berio wrote
Rounds for harpsichord, later transcribing it for piano.
The improvisational qualities in both make this a fascinating
pairing, and Berio extends his experimentation with the third
pedal – the one which allows individual notes or chords to remain
sustained while others can be played damped. The effects from
this are quite subtle, and you probably wouldn’t notice much
difference from ‘conventional’ piano technique, but as the ideas
leap around a limited number of tonal centres – single notes
– then you do hear an effect of poly-harmonic rhythm: slow development
against intense, compacted and fragmented material which sometimes
seems to have the life cycle of a particle in CERN.
An appropriate conclusion, the 6 encores pour
piano actually cover an extended period of the composer’s
artistic life, dating from between 1965-1990. The pieces range
from the sparing moments of the later works Brin and
Leaf, through pictorial miniatures, the Brahms/Schubertian
Wasserklavier, and the limited means of the atmospheric
but challenging Erdenklavier. The final elemental experiments
or studies Luftklavier and Feuerklavier come from
the restless, ostinato-filled world of some of Berio’s contemporaneous
orchestral works, receiving stunning performances on this recording.
There are one or two discs on the market which
cover Berio’s output for solo piano. There is one on the Avie
label with Andrea Lucchesini which includes the mighty Sonata,
and David Arden has also recorded these works on New Albion
Records. I’m afraid I have none of these for comparison, but
can imagine that they might only beat this Decca disc in terms
of sound quality. I have nothing but praise for Andrea Bacchetti’s
playing of maestro Berio’s piano works, and knowing the close
association between these two musicians, have little hesitation
in putting them in something close to a definitive category.
Bearing in mind the slightly dodgy sound quality on this disc
however, I would say this deserves a remake, next time including
the 2001 Sonata to give us decent playing time and a
complete survey from this masterful interpreter.
Dominy Clements
Andrea Bacchetti (piano)
