Not long after Craig Sheppard’s recording of the Preludes
comes this twofer which contains performances of Estampes
and Images – both series - that continue to prove the
American to be technically exceptionally, stylistically perceptive,
tonally colouristic and interpretatively superb. Where to start?
Let’s try Estampes where his pacing is unimpeachable
and his sense of sonority and of arm weight, of colour and judicious
pedalling are consistently rewarding aspects of his art. The wave-like
imprecations of Jardins sous la pluie are splendidly realised,
its rhythms calibrated with hypnotic allure. Only one thing very slightly
dimmed my ardour and that’s not the pianist’s fault –
the microphone placement is just a bit too close and one can hear
pedalling or the piano’s action. I’ve noted this before
in some of Sheppard’s live recordings at Meany Theater and gradually
the placement has improved but it still sounds to me that the balance
between immediacy of sound and of a just distance is still not quite
there yet. Irrespective of this, the performance is still masterly.
Sheppard’s approach to Images similarly shows that
he is not prepared to accept perceived orthodoxies in post-Gieseking
recorded performance. A deep concern for structural matters is accompanied
by clarity of articulation and by appropriate use of the pedal. There’s
no hazy wash in Reflets dans l’eau. He, like many pianists,
is somewhat slower – though often not by much – than Daniel
Ericourt, who performed alongside and briefly knew Debussy (as Gieseking
had not), and is also somewhat warmer as a tonalist – though
this is also a reflection of the poor quality of the 1961-2 Ericourt
recordings, which are on Ivory Classics 73006.
The Études reprise qualities of deftness, intellectual
probity, and deep musical quality. Less startling than Ericourt in
the first of the twelve, he remains droll, whilst he is tauter and
less ‘dappled’ in the third. Rhythmical buoyancy is a
constant feature of his performances – sample the fourth –
and his crystalline finger clarity in the sixth is marvellously vivid;
crystalline but not cold, precise but not unfeeling, this is music-making
that honours but never parades. His pre-encore introduction of the
Hommage à Haydn is typically unaffected and charming,
and caps a captivating, musically honest and interpretatively elevated
sequence of performances, ones that Debussians will want to hear.
Jonathan Woolf
Previous review: John
Quinn
