Piano Factory 33.

Grant Chu Covell

[April 2025.]

“Hugues Dufourt: L’Origine Du Monde.” Hugues DUFOURT: Meeresstille (2004); An Schwager Kronos (1994); Rastlose Liebe (2000); L’Origine du monde (2004)*; La Fontaine de cuivre après Chardin (2013); Tombeau de Debussy (2018). Marilyn Nonken (pno), NYU Contemporary Music Ensemble*, Jonathan Haas* (cond.). Métier MEX 77120 (1 CD) (www.divineartrecords.com).

Extramusical influences guide these grand, resonant pieces. The sounds are wonderful, but even with the notes in hand, there’s the nagging feeling we’re missing out on something. Meeresstille travels the calm sea and Goethe’s poem. An Schwager Kronos alludes to other Goethe lines and a Schubert setting. Rastlose Liebe connects to another Goethe / Schubert pairing. L’Origine du monde refers to Courbet’s illustrious canvas. La Fontaine de cuivre après Chardin draws inspiration from a painting in the Louvre by Jean Siméon Chardin. Tombeau de Debussy continues the tradition of composers writing short works to acknowledge the French master’s influence.

Coviello offers Dufourt’s complete piano works (COV 92312) taken by a line-up of eight players. Nonken subset satisfies much more. She brings a welcome consistency to the weighty chords and Métier’s recorded sound is luminescent. I wish the notes were slightly more helpful: It takes a bit of hunting (or simply listening to the entire release) to validate that L’Origine adds ensemble and is the only non-solo. L’Origine is an anti-concerto, an effortless redistribution of intimidating, nearly immobile masses on a warehouse floor. It’s not evident how this relates to Courbet’s explicit painting, unless this is a dialog between the image and its historical reception.

“Organised Delirium.” Pierre BOULEZ: Piano Sonata No. 2 (1948). Hanns EISLER: Piano Sonata No. 1, Op. 1 (1923). Béla BARTÓK: Piano Sonata, BB 88, Sz. 80 (1926). Dmitri SHOSTAKOVICH: Piano Sonata No. 1, Op. 12 (1926). Domenico SCARLATTI: Sonata in B minor, K. 87 (1752). Tamara Stefanovich (pno). Pentatone PTC 5187 358 (1 CD) (www.pentatonemusic.com).

Since Boulez’ passing, have performances of his music tapered off? We’re in the centenary of the composer-conductor’s birth year, and there’s a modest burst. Many of the musicians he worked with are still going strong, among them, Stefanovich who studied Sonata No. 2 with its creator. Her Boulez performance is electric and sensual, continually fascinating and exciting. Pollini’s 1978 release had been my go-to, but Stefanovich surpasses it. Pollini is brittle and gray whereas Stefanovich is fluid and gleaming.

Stefanovich’s enthusiasm spills across the entire program. The Eisler Op. 1 Sonata is a close cousin to Berg’s Op. 1 (1910), with more than a few moments that bear a family resemblance. Stefanovich offers Bartók’s Sonata with cantankerous boldness. Perhaps the Shostakovich Sonata is the weakest link. Bartók (and Boulez and Eisler) quite evidently put their keyboard skills to use, whereas early Shostakovich does not yet value expression over technique. A fitting close, Scarlatti’s K. 87 is one of the slowest and saddest the Neapolitan-born composer wrote.

“War Silence: Rare Italian Piano Concertos.” Guido Alberto FANO: Andante e Allegro con fuoco (1900). Luigi DALLAPICCOLA: Piccolo Concerto per Muriel Couvreux (1939-41). Silvio OMIZZOLO: Concerto per pianoforte e orchestra (1960). Cristian CARRARA: War Silence (2015). Roberto Prosseda (pno), London Philharmonic Orchestra, Nir Kabaretti (cond.). Hyperion CDA68458 (1 CD) (www.hyperion-records.co.uk).

Fano’s bright two-movement concerto initiates a stroll down a forgotten avenue. Trying to recall any Italian piano concertos, I immediately come up with Nono and Busoni, both outliers (each adds vocalists, Nono includes tape). Of course there’s Bach’s contribution, but that doesn’t really count. If Respighi’s concerto snaps to mind, then you’ll appreciate this release. After Fano’s lighter Lisztian effort, comes Dallapiccola’s impressionistic concerto. Written for the seven-year-old Muriel Couvreux, the pleasant tonality aligns with Bartók and Martinu’s pre-war efforts but doesn’t reflect the Fascist steamroller which impacted Dallapiccola’s family. The completion of Canti di prigionia was just around the corner, as well as Dallapiccola’s shift towards serialism.

Omizzolo and Carrara are not storming the barricades. Perhaps keen to recreate earlier times, they trust tonality to adequately express contemporary concerns. Perhaps for 1960, Omizzolo’s stance is defensible, but in 2015 this perspective is unfathomable. Carrara’s spritely music seems more appropriate for scoring a documentary on ocean floor life, despite movements titled “Trenches” and “Solitudes.” Should Carrara be taking an ironic approach, I missed it.

“Roger Reynolds at 85, Vol. 2: Piano Etudes.” Roger REYNOLDS: Piano Etudes, Book I: Origins (2010–11); Piano Etudes, Book II: Extensions (2016–17). Eric Huebner (pno). mode 329 (1 CD) (www.moderecords.com).

Forwards and backwards, all at once. Everything is possible with the modern romantic Reynolds, and these luxurious piano etudes are no exception. I especially enjoy the second book which clumps music and ideas for a more complex, less linear experience. If the first book contained music which flowed and spilled through virtuosic cascades suggesting Chopin, Debussy, Liszt and Ligeti (explicit allusions abound), the second book may pause mid-phrase, or completely stall. Perhaps Book I was written with pencil and paper, and graphed out to the last detail; possibly Book II was created from memory, nostalgically recalling other music and experiences. I found myself thinking about how we learn things, how we process experiences. The contrasts might surprise with another composer, but not with Reynolds who has a knack for simple works of great complexity, and intricate works of modest means. As we expect from Reynolds, the dozen may be played in any quantity and configuration. Huebner provides all twelve, separately scrambling each book’s order, a low fence delineating each half dozen.

Johannes BRAHMS: Klavierstücke, Op. 76 (1878); Zwei Rhapsodien, Op. 79 (1879); Fantasien, Op. 116 (1892); Drei Intermezzi, Op. 117 (1892); Klavierstücke, Op. 118 (1893); Klavierstücke, Op. 119 (1893). Dirk Herten (pno). White Records o/p (2 CDs) (www.white-records.com).

Not your grandmother’s Brahms! Herten proposes an intimate foray through works we thought we knew. The closely captured Steinway D glows like antique silver. Herten is incredibly accurate, and folds in Chopinesque rubato. For better or worse, a lot of Brahms cultivates stodginess and parsimony. Herten reminds us that this man may have carried boundless unrequited love for Clara. Some highlights: Right from its start, the Capriccio, Op. 76, No. 2, breathes and swells. The Intermezzo, Op. 118, No. 6, is presented like a Lisztian Consolation, and the Intermezzo, Op. 119, No. 1, foreshadows Debussy with the dripped arpeggios. The sunshine at the center of the Romance, Op. 118, No. 5, glows unabashedly. This collection is destined to become a new favorite. Admittedly this may be hard to find in the physical world, but it is streamable.