Piano Factory 35.

Grant Chu Covell

[March 2026.]

“Old Boys Anthology.” Juraj BENEŠ: “Old Boys Anthology,” Suite for Piano No. 2 (1983). Ivan Šiller (pno). InMusic IM0033 (1 CD) (www.in-music.sk).

A compelling slice of Slovak music, forcing open a window onto an unfamiliar vista, Old Boys Anthology is a ten-part suite celebrating ten composers written by an equally unknown eleventh, Juraj Beneš (1940–2004). For the record, the honored ten are: Miro Bázlik, Tadeáš Salva, Jozef Malovec, Ivan Parík, Ilja Zeljenka, Juraj Hatrík, Jozef Sixta, Ladislav Kupkovič, Peter Kolman and Roman Berger. They were active during the 1960s, but were also at odds with the dominant political regime. Active teachers and musicians, these “old boys” influenced subsequent generations.

You don’t have to have on-the-ground experience to appreciate the expansive and varied Suite. Šiller executes passionately and convincingly, attuned to Beneš’ aims, probably keenly aware of allusions that escape my ears. Beneš’ pianistic suite, while of the latter part of the 20th-century, is not distant from Debussy’s Étude books. Beneš does not want to scare anyone away but invites us with open arms: The wistful and acrobatic material is never aggressively dissonant, and except for the waltz in the concluding Postludium, rarely sentimental. Šiller provides the insider’s perspective, underscoring nuances, pointing out the details in this fresh vista.

Each movement reflects its dedicatee’s style and influences, often with explicit references. Except for the “standard rep” quotes in No. 6, “Reminiscences,” much of the allusions were lost on me. Of the ten composers, only Kupkovič struck a bell. Salva is worth getting to know with an arresting 1967 Cello Concerto (Naxos 8.572509) reflecting the period’s avant-gardisms. Kolman has an electronic composition, E15 (1974), available variously online. But Beneš opus is absorbing and an excellent medicine for our subjective perspective.

“John Cage Remembered.” Erik SATIE: Vexations (1893). John CAGE: Chess Pieces (1944). Luisa Guembes-Buchanan (pno). Del Aguila DA 30626 (1 CD) (www.luisagbuchanan.com).

Points on the board for offering Vexations. We get just 30 iterations (which can be replayed 27 more times to arrive at Satie’s request for 840 total repetitions). Here is enough variety and lulling motion to gain an appreciation for the work’s impact. Or be justifiably infuriated. Chess Pieces derives from a painting Cage created for an art exhibit, latterly transcribed for piano by Margaret Leng Tan (Tan’s version on mode 158 is 7:48, faster than Guembes-Buchanan’s 9:09). I’d have preferred any other Cage item, rather than material that squirms like a daydreaming child. Perhaps that was the intention? This Cage does make Satie look like genius.

Both pieces fill time with sound in quasi mechanical ways. Satie explores a simple melody with tritones (notated obscurely making the work more difficult than it could be). Cage has filled time with notes and light accompaniment, or rather, Tan has extracted notes and light accompaniment from Cage’s image of music. Guembes-Buchanan has found two pieces which continuously remind that we are listening until our attention snaps elsewhere: We may be frustrated or perplexed, but we are going to be observant until we are not.

John CAGE: Sonatas and Interludes for Prepared Piano (1946-48). Agnese Toniutti (pno). Neuma Records Neuma 172 (1 CD) (www.neumarecords.org).

Just when you might think there’s nothing more to say about the prepared piano, then comes Cage’s classic vividly captured. A quick spot check with older performances on the shelves (Ajemian, Tenney, Tilbury, Henck) confirms this release’s admirable clarity (Ok, Ajemian’s is from 1951). It sounds as if we’re in the piano. There are distinct colors when the pedal is down, and Toniutti’s fast passages render cleanly. This is never mushy or blurry. Toniutti appears to be in love with every sound.

“Domenico Scarlatti: Complete Piano Sonatas, Vol. 12.” Domenico SCARLATTI: Sonatas K. 388-417 (ca. 1754). Christoph Ullrich (pno). Tacet 282 (2 CDs) (www.tacet.de).

“Domenico Scarlatti: Complete Keyboard Sonatas, Vol. 31.” Domenico SCARLATTI: Sonatas K. 218, 115, 255, 302, 237, 75, 145, 138, 370, 345, 332, 94, 5, 393, 122, 272, 195, 16, 287 (ca. 1738-57). Martin Cousin (pno). Naxos 8.574686 (1 CD) (www.naxos.com).

Ullrich nears the summit with Vol. 12, which in the bigger scheme means that there are only 78 sonatas remaining (three volumes) as he inches ever closer to the complete 555. I sense a lightness in this installment. There’s the charm of the unexpected wrong-key arpeggios in K. 394, and throughout subtle and varied articulations as in K. 392 and 400. Ullrich turns K. 404 into a grand statement. At 9:05, his is slower than others (Delbarge takes 6:45, Ross without repeats is 4:03). In K. 404 Ullrich turns straight quarters into eighth or triplet repeating notes, adding fanciful noodling on repeats. This twofer does not offer extras or guest appearances. I imagine the final three sets will contain such surprises.

I haven’t analyzed the existing 31 volumes to determine if Naxos is approaching a complete series without duplication. As they are advancing upon the number of discs achieved by Carlo Grante in his journey (35), I expect we may know soon enough. The apparent haphazardness within each volume presumes an unseen plan; I doubt they’re permitting their executants complete abandon.

Having dipped into many Naxos Scarlatti volumes, I can confidently say that Cousin brings a higher level of seriousness and comprehensiveness to these nineteen. Cousin’s program does not group sonatas into pairs, but strolls along what appears to be a random path. That said, there are some providential groupings, such as K. 255 and 302, in C major / minor. Proving that interpretation comes in many forms, K. 393 appears in both releases. Ullrich and Cousin take all repeats, but the former clocks the Minuet at a sprightly 2:44, the later at 3:40. Cousin’s edition concludes with K. 287, likely intended for organ.

“Piano Concertos for the Left Hand; Wittgenstein Concertos.” Josef LABOR: Konzertstück I (1915); Konzertstück II (1917); Konzertstück III (1923). Oliver Triendl (pno), Deutsche Staatsphilharmonie Rheinland-Pfalz, Eugene Tzigane (cond.). Capriccio C5521 (1 CD) (www.capriccio.at).

Continuing to enhance the Labor discography, Capriccio offers the three left-hand piano concertos written for Paul Wittgenstein. In the shape of a theme and variations sequence, Labor’s Konzertstück I, premiered in 1916, was the first concerto for piano left hand and orchestra, thus beginning the string of commissions from Strauss, Ravel, Schmidt and others (although Wittgenstein never played the works he could not comprehend, like Prokofiev and Hindemith’s).

Nos. 2 and 3 suggest a conventional three-movement form, however, they each open with a slow introduction before a substantial Allegro, then conclude with a brisk Finale. We should not expect modern tendencies from Labor (1842-1924), but the melodic invention and development in Nos. 2 and 3 doesn’t compare with No. 1 which falls between Liszt and Brahms on the Romantic spectrum. Perhaps Labor became more attuned to Wittgenstein’s inclinations and abilities; perhaps the blind composer’s assistant wasn’t as proficient.