Talking Heads: Paul Wee

by Ben Hogwood

Paul Wee is a true one-off. An in-demand commercial barrister by day, he is also an extraordinary pianist, capable of taking on some of the most demanding pieces in the repertoire. The combination of a passion for his art and thirst for a challenge has led to award-winning recordings of the music of Thalberg and of Beethoven arranged by Liszt, both for the BIS label.

Yet arguably his greatest recording achievement to date concerns the music of Charles-Valentin Alkan, the 19th-century French composer who was one of the great virtuosos of his day. Wee has mastered two massive works by the composer – his Symphony for Solo Piano and the Concerto for Solo Piano. The latter will form an entire lunchtime concert with which he will make his eagerly anticipated Wigmore Hall debut, on Saturday 15 June. A tempestuous hour of music lies ahead – so while he flexes his muscles in preparation, Arcana managed to get some time with him to explore not just Alkan but a number of other irons he has in the fire.

Firstly, Paul recalls vividly his first encounter with Alkan’s music. “It was when I was in high school, in New York City”, he says. “I heard a live recording of Marc-André Hamelin playing the Symphony for Solo Piano, and I was awestruck immediately!”

His decision to take on the concerto was inspired by similar feelings. “I was immediately taken by the Concerto for Solo Piano when hearing it for the first time: it’s an astonishing musical construction, which makes an extraordinary and unforgettable impact. I didn’t know of any other work like it in the repertoire and knew that I had to give it a go myself.”

The piece is notorious for the demands Alkan makes on the performer, but as Wee confirms the rewards are greater still. “The technical challenges are reasonably self-evident; in the numerous passages where Alkan is displaying the ‘virtuosity’ of the (virtual) ‘soloist’, the writing – whilst always remaining very idiomatic and practical, characteristically for Alkan – can sometimes approach the limits of conventional pianism”, he says. “The emotional (or musical) challenges are mainly twofold: first, bringing to life the (extraordinarily theatrical) drama and rhetoric in the second movement Adagio; and second, maintaining the intensity of the Concerto’s narrative arc across its 50-minute wingspan. But when these challenges are met, it makes for one of the most incredible experiences that the piano repertoire has to offer.”

Wee has recorded the concerto for BIS, an album released in 2019. Has his view of the piece changed since then? “Yes – in relation to both the Concerto’s sound world, and also its pacing, especially in the Allegro assai. As ever it’s difficult to explain this in words, so the best thing for anybody interested is to come and hear it live!”

Alkan is a composer who inspires great dedication among his fans, and Wee considers the elements of his music that lead to these feverish reactions. “I think it is the sheer power and quality of his finest works, which offer extraordinary experiences quite unlike anything else that the 19th century has to offer. The fact that Alkan and these works are not as widely known as they should be can often lead to fans of Alkan’s music to (rightly!) encourage others to discover this music for themselves. That’s exactly what I hope to be doing myself when bringing the Concerto to Wigmore Hall.”

Anyone approaching Alkan’s music for the first time is in for a treat. “It depends on what work they are hearing. If the Concerto, they should prepare themselves for an epic, but nevertheless very accessible, musical narrative; a very wide variety of pianistic experiences, from some of the greatest heights of 19th-century virtuoso piano writing, through to tender intimacy and lyricism, with much quasi-operatic dramatic intensity and rhetoric along the way. Overall, the listener should prepare themselves for the extraordinary cumulative impact of the work, which builds across all three movements and which in a good performance can be utterly overwhelming.”

Presenting this work in the Wigmore Hall is something of a dream for Wee, who recalls his most memorable musical experiences in the venue. “Wigmore Hall is probably my most visited concert venue, and my own personal highlights reel would be too long to list in full! But some illustrative examples would have to include recitals by Marc-André Hamelin playing Haydn, Mozart, Liszt, Fauré, and Alkan in November 2009; Benjamin Grosvenor playing Mendelssohn, Chopin, Ravel, and Liszt in June 2016; and Mark Padmore and Paul Lewis in Schubert’s Winterreise in June 2022.”

Expanding from Alkan, Wee has somehow found time to discover and record concertos by two names unfamiliar to many devotees of classical music – Adolph von Henselt and Hans von Bronsart (above). It is another addition to his small but formidably constructed discography for BIS – and not a recent discovery, either. “I discovered the Henselt in my teens,”, he says, “after reading about it in books by Harold Schonberg and David Dubal, and seeking out recordings by Raymond Lewenthal and Marc-André Hamelin. I came to the Bronsart later, after being captivated by Michael Ponti’s recording of the slow movement.”

The recordings Wee mentions were made with a symphony orchestra, but for the new album he is paired with the Swedish Chamber Orchestra, under Michael Collins. “One of the greatest difficulties of the Henselt lies in making the piano part, with all of its detailing and intricacies, audible over the sound of the orchestra”, he explains. “In nearly all cases, large swathes of the passagework (especially in the finale) are simply swallowed and inaudible beneath the weight of a modern symphony orchestra. In teaming up with the Swedish Chamber Orchestra for this recording, I think we have been able to present a different view of the Henselt in particular, which presents Henselt’s (quasi-Mendelssohnian) piano writing with a new immediacy and clarity, whilst maintaining power and heft where needed. Of course, the Swedish Chamber Orchestra is not just any old chamber orchestra; it has a particular reputation for being “the chamber orchestra that can sound like a symphony orchestra”, and I think that anybody hearing (say) the opening tutti of the Bronsart Concerto will be astounded by the vigour and intensity that the Swedish Chamber Orchestra brings to the proceedings. I think they have been the perfect partner for this recording.”

He continues to move forward with recording plans…“but as there are still a few moving pieces here and there, all I will say for now is to watch this space. But my future recording plans with BIS are very exciting, and I’m looking forward to sharing them when I can say more…”

Looking further afield, what other music would he like to explore? “The list is far too long: the piano literature is so wide and so rich, and I find many things to love in nearly every one of its corners. In addition to that, the music that I might want to play and enjoy for myself will not necessarily be the same as the music that might be thought to sell well if I were to record it. So there are many dimensions to this question, which do not necessarily interrelate. Again, I think that all I can say is that there are some very interesting projects in the pipeline, so watch this space!”

In the meantime he will continue with his two complementary disciplines. “Absolutely: I have no desire to give up my legal career and become a full-time musician. I enjoy my work as a commercial barrister; it’s challenging, constantly stimulating, and ultimately very satisfying. On the musical side, I wouldn’t be averse to playing a few more concerts here and there, but probably nothing more than that. I wouldn’t ever want for the piano to become my day-to-day life. I am much happier with the piano being my escape from everyday life, which (for me) is my career at the Bar.”

He expands on how the two very different elements of his life are complementary. “The most important factor is that each presents an escape from the other. When my legal practice is especially demanding (which, as any lawyer will tell you, can frequently be the case), I can take a quick 5- or 10-minute time-out at the piano, and for that window, I am completely disconnected from the strains and stresses of the law: I return to my desk refreshed. In the other direction, my legal career has helped me hugely as a pianist by (perhaps paradoxically) ensuring that the piano is not my day-to-day life, as I mentioned above. Whenever I sit down at the piano, it’s never out of obligation, but out of joy. These days I have a completely different relationship with the instrument than what I used to have when I thought (as a teenager) that I wanted to be a concert pianist. I think the freedom that underpins my relationship with the piano these days has been essential in making me the pianist that I have become.”

Finally, he considers the music he anticipates seeing as a concertgoer this year – when time allows. “As it happens, this year I am going to far fewer concerts than usual, given the demands of family life (our second daughter was born in December and is just six months old). So I’m often going to concerts at shorter notice than usual. That said, I’m hoping to see Benjamin Grosvenor in the Busoni Concerto at the Proms, and I have Igor Levit’s September 2024 recital in my diary, where he’ll be playing the Liszt transcription of Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony: these are fabulous transcriptions that should be played in concert far more frequently, so I’m delighted to see him bringing this to London. I’m also planning to see Nikolai Lugansky at Wigmore Hall in December 2024, where he’ll be playing (among other things) his own stunning transcription of scenes from Götterdämmerung. I’m sure there will be many other concerts along the way!”

For information on Paul’s Wigmore Hall debut, on Saturday 15 June at 1pm, click on this link. You can read more about Paul at his website, and explore his discography at the Presto website

Published post no.2,207 – Wednesday 12 June 2024

A quick note: Unknown Prokofiev

by Ben Hogwood

Yesterday lunchtime I listened on BBC Radio 3 to a very fine recital from London’s Wigmore Hall by pianist Elisabeth Brauss. It was a typically inventive hour including music by Beethoven, Albéniz and Prokofiev (above) that you can listen to by clicking on BBC Sounds

The Prokofiev chosen was an early work, a selection of eight pieces from the ten the composer published as Op.12 in 1913. It put me in mind of a huge amount of piano music by the composer that goes under the radar, left in the shadow of the nine piano sonatas and the famous transcriptions from ballets Romeo & Juliet and Cinderella.

Here, then, is a celebration of those pieces – performed by Frederic Chiu. They show the composer getting into his stride, with plenty of wit, but a soft centre too:

Inspired by this discovery, I have gone on to purchase some of the composer’s other collections of pieces, including the Music for Children. I will report back at a later date on those, I expect!

On Record: Richard Deering – William Wordsworth: Piano Music; Wilson & McGuire (Heritage)

Wordsworth
Piano Sonata in D minor Op.13 (1939)
Cheesecombe Suite Op.27 (1945)
Ballade Op.41 (1949)
Valediction Op.82 (1967)
Wilson
Incanabula (1983)
McGuire
Prelude 7 (1983)
Six Small Pieces in C (1971)

Richard Deering (piano)

Heritage HTGCD142 [77’42’’]
Producer/Engineer Paul Arden-Taylor (Piano Sonata), Robert Matthew-Walker
Recorded 1985 at University of Wales, Cardiff, 2023 at Wyastone Concert Hall, Wyastone Leys, Monmouth

written by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

Heritage here continues its extensive coverage of British music with a release of piano music primarily by William Wordsworth, complemented with short pieces by Thomas Wilson and Edward McGuire, all of them heard in idiomatic and insightful readings by Richard Deering.

What’s the music like?

Although his music is now relatively well covered in terms of recording (thanks to Lyrita and, more recently, Toccata Classics), Wordsworth remains a difficult composer to pin down – not least because this understated and often taciturn idiom does not lend itself to casual listening.

Piano music features prominently in his earlier output, notably a Piano Sonata that can rank with the finest such works from the inter-war period. Its initial movement is introduced by a Maestoso whose baleful tone informs the impetuous and expressively volatile Allegro that follows. The central Largamente probes more equivocal and ambivalent emotions before it leads directly into a final Allegro whose declamatory and often martial character is briefly offset by an aching recall of previous material, prior to a conclusion of inexorable power.

His status as conscientious objector saw Wordsworth engaged in farm-work during wartime, the experiences and friendships of this time being commemorated in the Cheesecombe Suite whose lilting Prelude and lively Fughetta frame a quizzical Scherzo then a Nocturne of affecting pathos. Written for Clifford Curzon, Ballade is a methodical study in contrasts that makes for an ideal encore; as, too, might Valediction, but here emotions run deeper and more elusively as befits this memorial to a lifelong friend written later in the composer’s maturity.

As with Wordsworth, Thomas Wilson was an incomer to Scotland (albeit from the United States rather than England), and Incanabula typifies the searching though accessible quality of his later music – the six sections unfolding as if variants on each other before concluding in a mood whose calmness does not preclude a degree of restiveness. Scottish by birth and among the most wide-ranging composers of his generation (not least through a half-century association with traditional group The Whistlebinkies), Edward McGuire has written widely for piano – notably a series of Preludes, of which the seventh integrates minimalist and folk elements into its fluid and cumulative overall design. Simpler as to form and expression, Six Small Pieces in C Major evoke Satie and Cage in their lucid textures and disarming naivete.

Does it all work?

It does, and not least when Deering is so evidently attuned to this music – having premiered the Wilson piece and MacGuire Prelude. Margaret Kitchin recorded those three earlier pieces by Wordsworth in the 1960s (Lyrita), and Christopher Guild recently set down all four items with various miniatures in his complete survey (Toccata), but those wanting the major works cannot go wrong with this anthology. Other than McGuire, booklet notes are by John Dodd – a tireless advocate of British music with whom this reviewer was fortunate to be acquainted.

Is it recommended?

Indeed. The sound has a clarity and focus such as belies the almost four decades between the two sessions, and this makes a worthwhile follow-up to Deering’s recent collection of piano music by Parry [HTGCD140-141]. Hopefully there will be further releases from this source.

Listen & Buy

You can explore purchase options at the Heritage Records website, and find out more about Richard Deering here. Meanwhile for more on the composers, click on the names William Wordsworth, Thomas Wilson and Edward McGuire.

Published post no.1,983 – Thursday 19 October 2023

Christmas recommendation – Bugge Wesseltoft: It’s Snowing On My Piano

by Ben Hogwood

If you’re after something a little bit different music-wise over Christmas, let me point you in the direction of Bugge Wesseltoft, and the keyboard wizard’s exquisite 1997 album It’s Snowing On My Piano. It is an absolute treat, and includes this particularly beautiful rendition of the famous carol In Dulce Jubilo. Sometimes less is most definitely more!

You can purchase Bugge’s album from his Bandcamp site below:

On Record: Nathan Williamson – Malcolm Lipkin: Piano Music (Lyrita)

Malcolm Lipkin
Nocturne no.1 (1987, rev. 2000)
Nocturne no.2 (1995)
Nocturne no.3 (1999)
Sonata no.5 (1986)
Nocturne no. 4 ‘…heard in the stillness…’ (2000)
Nocturne no.5 ‘…interrupted melody…’ (2001)
Sonata no.6 ‘Fantasy Sonata’ (2002)
Nocturne no.6 ‘…glint and shadow…’ (2002)
Nocturne no.7 ‘…dancing figures…’ (2004)
Nocturne no. 8 ‘…recollections…’ (2006)

Nathan Williamson (piano)

Lyrita SRCD.414 [68’55’’]
Producer/Engineer Adrian Farmer
Recorded 13-15 October 2021 at Wyastone Concert Hall, Wyastone Leys, Monmouth

written by Richard Whitehouse

What’s the story?

Following on from his three symphonies (SRCD.349), Lyrita here continues its coverage of Malcolm Lipkin (1932-2017) with this release featuring piano music from his later years – a cohesive body of work such as benefits from the insightful playing of Nathan Williamson.

What’s the music like?

While not lacking performances from the early 1950s onward, Lipkin remained a peripheral figure on the UK music scene until the premiere of his 1977 chamber work Clifford’s Tower (Divine Art DDA25202) – its powerfully humanist response to racial atrocity typifying the music from his maturity. The pieces on this new release appear dissimilar given their overt abstraction, but even a cursory hearing reveals many subtleties of expression arising directly out of the musical content which come increasingly into focus with each successive listen.

It was with his Third Sonata that Lipkin first came to attention, but there was a 32-year gap between its successor and the Fifth Sonata. Its two movements contrast with each other in every respect: the first, marked ‘Extremely slow’, starts then ends with a rapt inwardness that makes its ferocious central eruption more unnerving; the second, marked ‘Quite fast’, emerges as a toccata whose jazzy syncopation and technical virtuosity are carried forward to a decisive close. If the ‘Fantasy’ of the Sixth Sonata seems anti-climactic by comparison, its integrating of the nominal four movements (the ‘scherzo’ placed third) as a continuous discourse is brought off with absolute assurance. There is also a growing sense the outcome of its intriguing 15 minutes is unlikely to be that anticipated, which indeed proves the case.

It was none the less with his series of Nocturnes, composed over virtually two decades, that Lipkin made his defining contribution to piano literature. These take their cue from Chopin and Fauré, while adding a vein of ambiguity which is unique to this composer. Not least the First Nocturne with its distanced opening, hazy yet lucid evolution and ethereal close. The Second and Third pieces are respectively wistful and elegiac, then the remaining five each has a descriptive subtitle. Hence the Fourth Nocturne in its juxtaposing of the otherworldly and ominous, the Fifth with its winsome elegance, and the Sixth in its intuitive interplay of expressive types. The Seventh Nocturne has a more capricious demeanour, then the Eighth ends the series with its veiled allusiveness: ‘recollections’ in the fullest yet obliquest sense.

Does it all work?

Absolutely. Right from his first acknowledged pieces, Lipkin evinced craftsmanship of the highest order but it took time and experience to channel this into a wholly personal idiom. Such is everywhere evident in the piano music heard here, which also calls on pianism of the highest order. This it receives from Nathan Williamson (himself a composer of note), who has clearly devoted much time to evolving an all-round interpretive stance. With the Nocturnes in particular, it would hard to imagine more authoritative or sensitive readings.

Is it recommended?

Indeed. The spacious though focussed sound is up to Wyastone studio’s customary standard, and there are typically comprehensive annotations from Paul Conway. It is to be hoped that Lyrita will continue its Lipkin exploration with more of the chamber and orchestral output.

Listen

Buy

You can explore purchase options for this album at the Wyastone website. For more information, click on the links for performer Nathan Williamson and composer Malcolm Lipkin

Published post no.1,983 – Thursday 19 October 2023