The First Movements
Franz Joseph HAYDN (1732-1809)
Sonata in B minor Hob.XVI: 32 first movement [3:12]
Edvard GRIEG (1843-1907)
Piano Sonata in E minor Op 7: first movement [4:16]
Wolfgang Amadeus MOZART (1756-1791)
Piano Sonata in D Major K311: first movement [3:29]
Maurice RAVEL (1875-1937)
Sonatine M40: first movement [4:30]
Johann Sebastian BACH (1685-1750)
Italian Concerto in F major BWV 971: first movement [4:22]
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)
Sonata in E flat major, Op 27 No 1: first movement [5:31]
Edvard GRIEG
Piano Sonata in E minor, Op 7: second movement [3:44]
Christopher JESSUP (b.1998)
Le Revenant [7:39]
Christopher Jessup (piano)
rec. 2021, New York
Private Release [36:54]
There is an old show business adage about ‘leave them wanting more’ but I am not sure how often it is applied to classical music. This intriguing new album from pianist Christopher Jessup takes the idea as its theme since it consists – mostly – of the first movements only of various sonatas from Bach to Ravel. In an email describing the album, he offers an alternative depiction of it as a kind of musical tasting menu – of the music and him as a performer. A neat enough concept but is there a danger of leaving the listener with the pianistic equivalent of coitus interruptus?
The choice of the opening movement of Beethoven’s Op 27 No 1 seems particularly risky in this regard. This seems to me one of the most integrated of all sonatas so extracting one movement is almost an act of violence, no matter how well Jessup plays it – and he does play it well.
This release raises all kinds of interesting questions about the direction classical music in general and the recording of classical music particularly are heading. For one thing it represents another step in the democratisation that began with the birth of boutique labels since, even though this is a self release, it is recorded to the highest levels that would have been the exclusive preserve of the big labels in the not too distant past.
The typical age of the average listener to classical music has tended to buffer this end of the recording industry from the implications of things like streaming. Simply put, classical listeners still buy CDs though even here in decreasing numbers. Classical listeners are interested in digital formats but generally of the high end, lossless variety. This may not change but if members of the younger generation are to grow into the classical listeners of the future they are going to bring their listening habits with them and that means mainstream streaming. Perhaps the most significant shift that such an event is likely to bring would be a movement away from the LP as the template for classical releases. This template has been remarkably resilient even as it was extended to longer playing time by the advent of the CD. This current release by Christopher Jessup stands all of this tradition on its head. This is an album for the playlist generation.
Or is it? As an album of sorts, this represents an old-fashioned sampler designed to draw the listener into exploring more. The difficulty is that, as yet, there isn’t more. I would love see where Jessup takes his tantalising account of the first movement of the Beethoven – he seems to have the measure of both the humour and the depth of this sphinx-like movement so I more than suspect that he would be similarly in tune with the spirit of the rest. The trouble is that his account of the rest doesn’t exist on record. Jessup himself seems to acknowledge this in giving us the second movement of the Grieg sonata as a bonus. It is as if he is offering a glimpse of the riches that lie beyond these opening movements. Perhaps it is a point aimed as much at the classical record industry as the listener. I do hope this album tickles the curiosity of enough readers – it is widely streamable- to create enough momentum to allow Jessup to record more. Less tasting menu and more of a calling card perhaps.
The emphasis is on classicism rather than romanticism in terms of this programme, the fine account of the two movements of the Grieg notwithstanding. This seems a wise decision as Jessup has clearly a real flair for this music. His Mozart brims with energy without it ever distorting the classical proportions of the music. The Haydn is crisp and lively if a little over serious even if it is in a minor key. One of the frustrations of reviewing this album is that there is no more Haydn to see if this is typical of Jessup’s way with the composer or not. The Bach may not fizz quite as much as Rafał Blechacz’s astonishing DG version but it has a real aristocratic elegance to compensate. I would definitely want to hear more Bach from him. That classicism is reflected too in a debonair account of the Ravel.
The second bonus track provides an even more frustrating glimpse in that it gives us Jessup as composer. I probably enjoyed this track the most of all. There is a sly intelligence running through this piece that i found entrancing. Yes, there are ghosts of other composers hovering around but Jessup the composer as much Jessup the pianist is very much his own man.
If the object of this album might be said to deliberately frustrate the listener then I say ‘Job done’! I don’t think a smorgasbord of first movements does amount to a satisfactory album even in our time poor era but as a kind of auditory cliff hanger it works extremely well. I hadn’t heard of Christopher Jessup as either pianist or composer but now I definitely want to hear more. Perhaps, as an encore he can give us the remaining five second movements or better still an album of his own music.
David McDade
