Charles-Valentin ALKAN (1813-1888)
Complete Piano Music Vol. 3
Grande Sonate,
‘Les quatre âges’, Op
33 (1848) [37:11]
Souvenirs
– Trois Morceaux dans le genre pathétique, Op 15 (1837) [30:11]
Mark Viner (piano)
rec. 2018/19, Westvest Church Schiedam, The Netherlands
Reviewed as a 16-bit download
Pdf booklet included
PIANO CLASSICS PCL10209
[68:22]
Having just
reviewed
the latest volume in this ongoing series - it was a MusicWeb Recording of
the Month in March 2021 - I’m now making good my promise to assess its
predecessors. I first encountered the British pianist Mark Viner when
seeking comparatives for my
review
of Quebec-born Marc-André Hamelin’s recent recording of opera
transcriptions and fantasias by Franz Liszt and Sigismond Thalberg.
Interest duly piqued, I downloaded his two Thalberg albums, Opera Fantasies (Piano Classics PCL0092) and Apothéose & Fantasies on French Opera (PCL10178). That led to
my belated discovery of his intriguing Alkan project, the initial
instalment of which was welcomed by
Robert Beattie
in 2018. Significantly, it, too, was a Recording of the Month.
As it happens, Viner is up against his Piano Classics stablemate, the
Italian pianist Vincenzo Maltempo, whose Grande Sonate
and Trois Morceaux are included in Alkan: Genius-Enigma (PCLM0088). Released in 2015, that 3-CD set
repackages recordings he made in Rome between 2011 and 2013. The USP of
those performances is that they’re played on an 1899 Érard, whose lighter,
brighter tone often - but not always - reveals aspects of the music that
the heftier sound of a modern concert grand might obscure. Maltempo’s
choice of instrument aside, he’s clearly a very fine pianist; what’s more,
he knows his way around these scores. As for the recordings themselves,
they’re decent enough, if somewhat variable. The bad news, if you’re a
downloader, is the lack of a digital booklet.
And then there’s Hamelin’s accounts of Alkan’s most challenging works;
his Grande Sonate, recorded in 1994, is not to be missed
(Hyperion CDA66794). Apart from a fearless, flawless technique, he brings a
thrilling breadth and power to this and other Alkan showstoppers, such as
the concerto and symphony for solo piano (CDA67569 and 67218 respectively).
Indeed, he has few peers in this rep, although Viner and the extraordinary
barrister-pianist
Paul Wee
have been known to run him very, very close.
In four movements, the Grande Sonate starts with a giddy,
catch-me-if-you-can Scherzo, which Viner articulates and animates with
consummate skill, that insistent, rather mischievous little figure for the
left hand particularly well done. How magnificently - how intuitively - he
shapes and drives the music, his phenomenal finger-work a joy to behold.
But it’s not just about dexterity, for there’s a generosity of spirit here
that Maltempo and Hamelin, impressive in other ways, don’t always convey.
Generally, honours are quite evenly divided in this delightful opener,
although Viner has the advantage of a warmer, more congenial sound than
either of his rivals. That said, it’s Hamelin who surges into the lead with
a frankly staggering account of the Allegro. Tony Faulkner and Mike
Dutton’s recording is a barnstormer, too.
Maltempo and Viner aren’t milquetoasts, though, and what their performances
may lack in sheer attack and amplitude they more than make up for with
added colour and detail. Not to be outdone, the latter responds with a
lovely, open-hearted reading of the rather songful Andante. Of particular
note here is the pianist’s feel for mood and line - for poetry - which
separates him from his slightly prosaic competitors. As for the darkly
ruminative Largo, Viner and Hamelin appear to understate the Dies irae first time around, although that serves to amplify its impact
later on. Maltempo is much more upfront at this point; indeed, I started to
feel his performance was a little too slick, the bright recording flirting
with listener fatigue. By contrast, Viner is suitably Stygian when it
counts, although Hamelin probably conveys the equivocal nature of this
music most effectively. It’s a close race, at least where Hamelin and Viner
are concerned. That said, it’s the Briton who deserves the palm, as his
performance is the most consistent and enlightening - the most rounded - of the three. The Italian finishes a distant third, his
chosen instrument not the asset I expected it to be. His recording
disappoints, too.
The Érard’s expressive limitations are even more of an issue in the Trois morceaux, the overall effect not so much light as
lightweight. Alas, that means Maltempo is denied a place in the finals; a
pity, as he plays so well. The remaining contenders are splendid in Alkan’s
mellifluous opener, although Hamelin, as forensic as ever, misses some of
the music’s charm. For that, and a whole lot more, look no further than
Viner; his playing is alive with colour and nuance. Not only that, he
creates a compelling story, with a clear-cut beginning, middle and end,
something that Hamelin can’t quite manage. Also, Viner seems more fluid in
the second piece, his glorious runs made to sound so easy. But it’s in the
third piece that the latter impresses most, his sensitive, beautifully
shaped reading supported by a recording that charts every detail of Alkan’s
shifting musical and emotional landscapes. (The piano’s firm, extended
bass, well caught, is a welcome bonus.) In the end, though, it’s not just
about a compelling narrative, it’s about the weaving of spells, and Viner’s
a wiz at both. His liner-notes are pretty good, too.
A superb addition to what’s fast becoming an indispensable series;
Alkanites and pianophiles, rejoice!
Dan Morgan
