John McCabe is somewhat of a phenomenon in 20
th, and
early 21
st, century music. He is a virtuoso pianist/composer
in the Lisztian model, who writes very penetrating music for his
own instrument, which, more often than not, is phenomenally difficult.
This is perhaps proven by the fact that all the music on this
disk was written for himself to play, except the
Haydn Variations
which was commissioned by the City Music Society for Philip Fowke
who gave the premiere and broadcast the work shortly afterwards
– the first solo piano work he ever wrote for another pianist!
McCabe’s earliest solo piano work is the
Variations, op.22,
a nightmarish piece, full of half tones, disguised corners, round
which lurk new musical experiences and, at the end, the most forthright
writing you can imagine. I remember hearing a broadcast of this
work about the time it was written and the impact on me was immediate
– as it still is. It’s a
superbly laid out work, never obvious, always questioning, as
well as questing, and, I’ve said it before but it is important,
the composer knows exactly what he wants to say, how to say it,
then, most importantly, how to bring the work to a satisfying
conclusion without overstaying his welcome – McCabe could teach
many younger composers this important facility.
The
Bagatelles were written at the request for some “…not
too difficult 12 note pieces”. In a way they are perfect McCabe
pieces for they say what they have to and then go. It’s a wonder
to me that he can say so much with so few notes – and this has
always been McCabe’s style and approach. However, when one realizes
that two of the most important composers to McCabe are Haydn and
Carl Nielsen, it’s easy to see where he gets his sense of the
importance of not being musically verbose. The
Bagatelles
are delightful miniatures, over in a trice, and they contrast
starkly with the Studies.
In 1969 McCabe started a series of pieces sub–titled
Study
– to date there are 12 (the most recent being premièred at the
Proms last summer) – and they all take their inspiration from
different sources. It’s easy to see why the architect Antonio
Gaudi (1852 – 1926) should have caught McCabe’s attention, and
how he wrote the music he did. Gaudi’s style has been described
as both expressionist and art nouveau, and McCabe’s large rondo
is certainly expressionist in outlook: monolithic, forbidding
and unforgettable – think of Gaudi’s Casa Batlloor or
Colonia
Guell, both, respectively, in or near,
his home town of
Barcelona, with their austere lines and almost futuristic, almost
science fiction like, looks and you’ve started to get some idea
of this piece. Like Gaudi’s buildings, this work has a cumulative
effect, it makes me think of looking ever upwards at a Church
spire, and it makes for a fine composition, but its intellectual
difficulties, let alone its interpretational and physical ones,
will always make it remain a special composition, reserved for
the very best pianists. Thank goodness the composer is one of
them!
Aubade is a simpler piece both to play and to listen
to, but it’s not without its own special waywardness. The composer
has said that, “… it is intended to conjure up not so much the
coming dawn … but the moments of stillness before the dawn” and
it has this effect, the static chords, juxtaposed with faster
moving material, not to mention McCabe’s love of action under
a simple trill, all combine to create that early morning feeling,
but it’s not too comfortable. This is proven by
Aubade
being followed by
Gaudi which takes place in the brightest
of sunlight. [
Gaudi
images]
Mosaic, the 6
th study, sets itself purely musical
challenges, despite the extra–musical idea of the mosques of Damascus
which McCabe saw when he was on a concert tour the year before
composition. I like to think that this piece is how it is because
it is dedicated to William Mathias – another composer/pianist,
but not one to undertake long tours and create vast amounts of
music both for himself to play and the duo partnerships that McCabe
enjoyed in his concert giving life – and McCabe delighted in the
compositional aspect knowing that another composer would be party
to the work. It’s quite a dynamic piece, essaying a large canvas,
and it’s thrilling and satisfying.
The
Haydn Variations start with quite a shock – you cannot
be prepared for this at all! It’s a most arresting opening – more
Rachmaninov than Haydn – but once the piece gets going it’s pure
McCabe. This piece seems to be a distillation of everything pianistic
that McCabe has learned, both through composition and performance,
for it throws everything possible into the melting pot and much
of the music emerges at white heat. There is some quite violent
writing here, which contrasts well with the reflective music.
Oddly, when listening it’s easy, for me at least, to forget that
I am listening to a set of variations, so well written and cohesive
is the piece that it might be another Study! In the long run,
it’s a fine piece, indeed as fine a piece as any McCabe has written
for his own instrument and perhaps the writing of it for a pianist
other than himself brought out this new side to his composition.
McCabe has recorded some of these works before and there is some
difference in the interpretations, mostly notably that here he
is more concerned with the music itself as an on going experience
and there is more maturity to his playing, indeed, I don’t find
myself, at any time, thinking about the pianism, the music is
all. I could not be without his earlier recordings of the
Variations
– a real young man’s interpretation this – or the first four
Studies
(RCA RL 25076 LP only, long out of print) – or the
Bagatelles
– a real throw caution to the wind performance here - (Pye Golden
Guinea GSGC 14116 LP only, long out of print) but these new looks
at some old friends are most welcome. This CD also very nicely
complements Tamami Honma’s recent CD of McCabe’s piano works (METIER
MSV CD92071 which includes Intermezzi, Studies 1, Capriccio, 2,
Sostenuto, 4, Aubade, 7, Evening Harmonies, 8, Scrunch, Tenebrae
and Variations).
This is a disk for all who care about the music of England, who
care about recent trends in composition for the solo piano, and
fans of John McCabe, and he should have quite a few in my opinion.
With very good recorded sound, showing a nice perspective on the
piano and the feel of the hall but not too much so as to distort
the sound image, Guy Rickards’s fine notes, which will help anyone
coming new to this music, all go to make up a most worthwhile
issue of some compelling British music. Bravo for this!
Bob Briggs
See also review by
Christopher Thomas
John McCabe (piano) 
