Always intrigued by Bach performed on the piano but entirely innocent as
to the qualities of Simone Dinnerstein’s playing, I was put on cheese alert
by somewhat drippy illustrations from the 1980s in the booklet which
presumably serve as mute illustration of burgeoning talent at early age.
This is another one of those annoying presentations which provides a
personal comment from the soloist and no further information on the actual
music. I don’t blame the pianist for this and saving on real booklet notes
no doubt cuts costs in an age when download purchases are as likely as
shifting actual discs, but with this approach we run the risk of turning
such recordings into ephemera. Of Dinnerstein’s other work a further
searches revealed Jens F Laurson’s colourful
review of the
Berlin Concert disc from
Telarc, a label which has also released her
Goldberg Variations. Live concerts have been given
mixed receptions
here and
here. Sony Classical already has two solo albums from
Dinnerstein,
Bach, Strange Beauty and
Something Almost Being
Said (see
review). To sum up in advance of hearing a note, it
would seem that Bach purists are unlikely to be happy with Simone
Dinnerstein’s interpretations, but then I would ask, what is a Bach purist
doing listening to Bach played on a Steinway in the first place?
Wondering if Simone Dinnerstein might be Sony’s answer to Virgin Classics’
David Fray, I do in fact find myself pleasantly surprised
by the quality of her playing. Yes, this is a romantic approach, with a
limpid, legato touch in many of the
Inventions. There is a dynamic
rise and fall which emphasises the shape of phrases, and there is a vocal
clarity to the contrapuntal strands which keeps us soundly on message for
the most part. Dinnerstein has a tendency to give little expressive delays
here and there, in particular in advance of ornaments, and this can lead to
some rhythmic strangeness, such as in the extra half a beat which sometimes
crops up to distort the
Invention No. 10. In the end, most of these
performances are very good indeed on their own, but only your individual
taste will dictate if you respond to Dinnerstein’s approach.
There are plenty of players to admire when it comes to this repertoire. At
the drier end of the spectrum we have the incomparable
Glenn Gould, who as ever is a frequent seeker of
extremes when it comes to tempi, but who explores rich veins of expression
and excitement despite the flaws in this recording. Andrea Bacchetti (see
review) has an honest directness and is closer to the
Gould camp, though with a greater sense of playfulness and less
uncompromising touch when it comes to a feel for legato. Compare the magic
of his
Sinfonia No. 5 to the over-ornamented version we have from
Dinnerstein. András Schiff’s 1983 Decca recording has plenty of romanticism
and has many excellent qualities, though I’m not always keen on his delayed
right hand in some of the slower pieces. Till Fellner (see
review) remains a firm favourite for the sheer
poetry in his playing, transforming these often simple keyboard pieces into
something desirable and unforgettable.
I have a declared affection for Angela Hewitt’s Hyperion recordings of
Bach, and her
Inventions and
Sinfonias (see review of the
single disc release
here, and the big Bach box
here) are full of life and variety. Hewitt doesn’t
linger much with these pieces, though gives full expressive attention to
masterpieces such as the
Sinfonia No. 9. Hewitt’s recording is a
bit on the dry side, but this lends clarity to the changes in colour she is
able to give to the different strands of counterpoint. Dinnerstein doesn’t
do this as much, using dynamics and individual atmosphere to point out micro
and macro contrasts.
To sum up, I like Simone Dinnerstein’s
Inventions and
Sinfonias quite a lot, but they don’t hold my attention for a whole
CD. I can see myself reaching for this if seeking Bach for relaxation, and
like a nice perfume it already holds some pleasant associations, but if I
want to be energised and inspired I think there are too many other places
with a wider variety of approach.
Dominy Clements
