Alkan: Concerto for solo piano [CD]

Charles-Valentin Alkan probably holds the most uneven status of any composer in music history: Schumann saw him as mediocre and Busoni believed him the greatest piano composer next to Beethoven and Liszt. Today, Alkan is gradually becoming more recognized as a musical genius and important pianist-composer. But his music continues to be ignored by the mainstream and seems only known to connoisseurs. It's a shame, when his compositions show such unquestionable originality and sound like the best elements of Chopin and Liszt. However, with the help of Marc-Andre Hamelin, I think we may be experiencing an Alkan Renaissance. Hamelin has probably contributed more to Alkan's posthumous legacy than even Ronald Smith. Thanks to Hamelin, the Alkan discography has been fattened immeasurably. But beyond that, Hamelin is one of the only few who can bring out the best of Alkan's unique music.

For those unfamiliar with Alkan's Concerto for Solo Piano, Ronald Smith notes that "it has been described as the nineteenth century's answer to Bach's Italian Concerto. In both works a single player is invited to imitate the impression of solo and massed forces. But the Alkan is on a colossal scale; an isolated masterpiece which cannot be sensibly compared with any other work..." Hamelin has arguably catapulted this work into the spotlight, though I must confess that I absolutely loathed his first recording of it (Charles-Valentin Alkan: Concerto For Solo Piano). I was disappointed with Hamelin's lack of legato touch in nearly every measure, the unyielding overly fast tempo, and, to my ears, an absence of emotional involvement.

With this latest recording on Hyperion, however, Hamelin has cleaned all of the stains, sealed the cracks, and revamped his entire delivery. The only thing Hamelin didn't alter is his preferred tempo: really fast. After comparative listenings between both recordings, I was pleasantly stunned to find Hamelin's new interpretation showing far greater vision and musicianship than he ever achieved. The first gigantic movement, for instance, is more energized and lush, more dynamically contrasting and passionate. Hamelin's fast tempo now seems like a valid interpretative approach rather than a fault. Personally, I think Jack Gibbons's "Adagio" is on a higher plane, but Hamelin improves himself here, too; he lets Alkan's music brood and storm and never glazes over important moments. The third "Allegretto alla barbaresca" movement is a hair-raising and explosive thrillride. Hamelin's treatment of the torrential maelstrom of notes is less mechanical and more expressive. He succeeds in conveying Alkan's piquant and grandiose ideas, in addition to the sheer power of it all. Simply put, Hamelin's new performance of this "Frankenstein's monster" is in every facet superior to his original recording.

Alkan's "Troisiéme recueil de chants Op. 65" makes an extremely odd companion for the mammoth Concerto. The music is less ambitious and magnificent, but no less communicative. To my knowledge, the first four pieces of this set have never been recorded before. Smith calls the second, "Esprits follets" or "Goblins" "a kind of supersonic Mendelssohn scherzo." Those familiar with Alkan's music may recognize melodic similarities between this piece and the first movement of the Sonatine. The "Tempo giusto" recalls Schumann's sound world except for the frenetic ending, a blatant stamp of Alkan's style. "Horace et Lydie" is a rather intricate conception. It is apparently music set to an ancient text of dialogues in which each speaker must answer each other with an identically sized line or stanza. According to Smith, "Alkan follows the scheme meticulously. He switches registers between the stanzas and sets the first pair in the Dorian and the second in the Phrygian modes." Alkan's last number of the set, the "Barcarolle," is his famous miniature, and although Hamelin has recorded this before, I'm always impressed with his well-paced and haunting performance.

Bottom line: In my opinion, Jack Gibbons's recording of the Concerto for Solo Piano is still the benchmark. I would actually encourage those interested in Alkan, who have not yet heard the Concerto, to start there (Alkan: 12 Études, Op. 39). But I cannot deny the value of Hamelin's new recording and decidedly better performance of the Concerto. A parting message from Humphrey Searle: "Certainly no student of the extraordinary development of the piano and piano playing that took place in the last century should fail to know Alkan's work--know it intimately, and observe the important place he fills."

He was born Charles Valentin Morhange, but changed it to Alkan which was his father's first name, was destined for great things. Alkan was a child prodigy and entered the Paris Conservatoire at six, and his Op. 1 was written when he was just 14. As a young man the celebrated Alkan was popular in Paris's salon where he played next to the other great pianists of his day Liszt and Chopin, but Alkan withdrew from public performance in 1849. Alkan was certainly one of the great virtuoso pianist composers and his keyboard works are without question among the most difficult ever written, even Liszt admitted this. But performances of Alkan's repertoire has literally been none existent until fairly recently, when some of the most accomplished pianists, Hamelin among them brought the music back into the public eye and slowly people are starting to get more interest in Alkan's music again. This new disc has received many awards and it's not difficult to see or more accurately, hear why. This is amazingly complex music and few pianists could ever hope to tackle it with any success. It's a measure of Hamelin's technical and interpretive skills that he seems to be able to play the 49 minute Concerto with ease. In the first movement of the Concerto Studies 8-10 of the Douze etudes Hamelin seamlessly plays passages of intensity to moments of quiet lyricism in a way that is simply astonishing. The Adagio finds Alkan in one of those moments, resting after the rigorous demands of the Allegro. Hamelin's playing is as introspective as the music will allow, with occasional flashes of bravura writing. He judges the contrasting moods superbly, never allowing the big tunes to dominate or the quieter passages to fade in the background. Hamelin seems acutely aware of the music's overall shape and competing inner voices, revealing this beautiful music. The final movement is very unique in tempo and harmonics, but Hamelin is certainly up to its manic moments. He manages to pull off the huge finale with great skill and good taste. If after listening to the Concerto you are gasping in disbelief the other pieces should calm things down a bit. Alkan wrote four volumes of chants using Mendelssohn's Songs without words as his inspiration. Starting with Vivante it's clear we are in a different, more intimate time in Alkan's life when he wrote these short pieces. My favorite of the miniatures is the Barcarolle which has a gentle charm, dreamy yet without ever losing that all important sense of focus and clarity. With performing any work by Alkan that is a remarkable achievement. Sadly, Alkan's music is not very well known or performed, but if you find yourself wanting to listen to real virtuostic playing and some very unique music I think you will enjoy this cd very much.

Sorry for my adding a sixth star. But what to, then? Five inflated amazon.com stars simply aren't enough for a transnational treasure like this.

To say the least, it would be somewhat foolish not to believe that no single human being has heard all live and recorded performances of every living and dead pianist. In this case, that doesn't really matter as sensible extrapolation is sufficiently second-best. In front of you is one of the best piano performances of all times and centuries--possibly THE best (only the Almighty himself would know).

The conclusion is actually not that complex to arrive at. Look at the score, listen to comments by such proven experts as Liszt and Busoni, examine the competition, and then turn on the CD player. Some hints: the score's technical difficulty surpasses virtually everything else; Liszt has often been said to probably have been the greatest ever pianist, fearing no one, but of course Alkan; the competition, consisting of no mean pianists, keeps struggling with getting through all the notes (including Smith, Ogdon and Gibbons); hence, what do you hear?

I fully do understand why people throw away words like 'machine' or 'inhuman' trying to understand what they hear. As far as I know, Mr Hamelin is indeed very much a human being (have personally been blessed with several opportunities to verify that statement, first-hand); the difference is just that his pianistic abilities so apparently surpass everyone else's that things get somewhat awkward--or perhaps rather turned entirely upside down. Yes, Hamelin plays as good live as on record.

Is Alkan's Solo Concerto that greatest piano work ever written? No, but considering the perverse neglect it's been exposed to ever since composed, one might say it's indeed the greatest relative to its recognition. But even the sun has its spots, and so has the Concerto. Personally, I would have tried to substitute some of the first movement's innumerable broken right-hand octaves--but, on the other hand, admittedly I'm not a particularly great composer.

As to the competition, actually there is some--not from Smith, Ogdon or Gibbons, but from Hamelin himself; claims on Gibbons being the benchmark are best just ignored. How would I know? I can actually confess to having learnt loving this Concerto through Gibbon's recording (Alkan: 12 Études, Op. 39--don't ask how many times I've played it, only my CD player would know). However, since the arrival of Hamelin's first rendition (Music & Arts), when listening to Gibbons, I only end up paying attention to all those instances where the score extends beyond the reach of all 'human', or better normally-skilled, pianists. With Hamelin's remake out, the only reason for still allowing Gibbons shelf space would be minor-key Etudes Nos 1-3 and 11, not yet recorded by Hamelin.

To conclude, my previous desert island disc (Charles-Valentin Alkan: Concerto For Solo Piano) thus has now been replaced--which is exactly what I feared in my previous review after having learnt of the pending remake. Why? Hexameron very accurately points out that the remake shows 'greater vision', with the first movement in particular being 'more dynamically contrasting and passionate'. However, he is wrong when it comes to tempo, energy and excitement, where the first rendition still is unsurpassed, if by a tiny margin. The differences between the two versions are in the details rather in overall conception, in contrast to the entirely 'revamped [...] delivery' being suggested in Hexameron's review. What tips the scales for me is the greater relaxed, sophisticated beauty of the remake, realised through a vastly superior recorded sound--in fact one of Hyperion's better (Potton Hall), not far from the reference reproduction of Demidenko's definitive Liszt Sonata (Snape Maltings--Nikolai Demidenko Plays Liszt). I don't mean to diminish the bonus value of the addition of Troisieme recueil de chants to the catalogue, exceedingly charming as they are--they just play in an altogether division.

If everything goes wrong, this is the one disc worth preserving to demonstrate to other civilisations, species, or whatever they may be, what mankind referred to as piano playing.