RACHMANINOV: 13 Preludes, Op. 32; Variations on a Theme of Corelli, Op. 42; Isle of the Dead, Op. 29 (arr. Kirkor) – Carlo Grante, piano – Music & Arts CD-1228, 79: 24 [Distr. by Albany] ****:
The collaboration between Sergei Rachmaninov and Carlo Grante seems an aesthetic inevitability, given their comparative virtuoso status. Grante plays the 13 Preludes (c. 1910) as a series of color etudes, much in the spirit of the composer’s Etudes-Tableaux. Grante moves these pieces well beyond their mere application of technique into the realm of contrapuntally conceived dance-forms, such as siciliano, folkdance, and barcarolle. Meanwhile, an idee fixe or ostinato pattern will insinuate itself into the texture–as in No. 4 in E, No. 7 in F Major, and the tumultuous F Minor No. 6–and hint at the dark side of the composer’s persona. In the course of his own liner notes, Grante makes a passing reference to Benno Moiseiwitsch–in regard to the B Minor No. 10–and, it seems to me, emulates something of that magic interpreter in his rendition of the G Major, Op. 32, No. 5. The metrics dissolve ambiguously into a water piece in 4/4 that wants to be 6/8. The weird syncopes of No. 7 jar us, ever so persuasively, into a world slightly askew. Grante emphasizes the Chopin influence in the A Minor and A Major pair that center the set, preludes that lie precariously between etude and Bach invention with a romantic fervor. Grante delivers a B Minor Prelude of breathtaking girth and resonant sonority, certainly in the tradition of the likes of Moiseiwitsch and Bachauer. For its last notes, Grante suggests the influence of Rimsky-Korsakov’s Sadko. The first diatonic chords of the B Major make a delightful shift of mood, a jaunty rondo in polka rhythm. The G-sharp Minor sparkles and shimmers, a showpiece in homage to Liszt and Ravel. No. 13 in D-flat Major is marked “Grave,” and it echoes with aspects of one of Liszt’s episodic Ballades. Some of the chordal work hearkens back to the ubiquitous C-sharp Minor Prelude, Op. 3, No. 2, the wonderful bane of the composer’s life.
Like Liszt, Rachmaninov composed twenty-two variations and coda on the theme of Corelli (1931); but, despite their pianistic and pedagogic vitality, I have always found Op. 42 academic and pedantic as a whole. There are individual variants that capture the ear, often due their modal shift–as in Variation IX–and stunning harmonization. The brilliance of the writing and its insistence on transitional cadenzas make me think that Rachmaninov pays as much homage to Busoni here as he did to Corelli and Liszt. The piece might be construed as a huge etude in preparation for the more melodic Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini (1934).
Gyorgy Kirkor (1910-1980) transcribed in 1957 Rachmaninov’s colorful response to Arnold Boecklin’s famous painting (1909), here made to echo a grand Liszt ballade, even hinting at La lugubre gondola in its opening rocking notes of Charon’s crossing the Styx. The obsessive Dies Irae moves across the keyboard in sad harmonization, Grante’s hands moving briskly enough to create three-hand effects. The flute solo in the orchestral version, high in the treble, takes us away from the magnificent gloom of the first half of the poem to more agitated chords that introduce the hopeful middle section, redolent with intimations of Francesca da Rimini of the composer’s own opera and delayed resolutions and feverish climaxes from Tristan. Grante’s Steinway quite succeeds in approaching an orchestral sound as much as any pianist’s instrument of the recent generation. Finally, the direct homage to the Totentanz of Liszt, now mixed with tender recollections of the middle section and arpeggios from Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. Spectacular artistry from one virtuoso to another.
–Gary Lemco
