Today brings us news of an important project from Vanessa Wagner, a favourite of these pages. Étude No. 17 is the first excerpt from her complete recording of Philip Glass’s Études for Piano, set for release later in 2025 on the InFiné label.
The InFiné press release goes into detail on Glass’s etudes, which are fast becoming the most recorded area of his music:
“Through her approach, Vanessa Wagner helps establish these two books as a major cycle within the grand repertoire, on par with the études of Ligeti, Pascal Dusapin, and, before them, Chopin and Liszt.
While the first book was conceived as an instructional manual to push Glass’s technical limits with a piano, the second book envisions an imagined virtuoso pianist, demanding both precision and dexterity. Glass himself has rarely performed more than a few pieces from the second volume.
Legend has it that while working on his final four études, Glass pulled a collection of poetry by Allen Ginsberg from his bookshelf. A mythical figure of the Beat Generation, Ginsberg inspired a whole generation’s desire for travel—journeys that took the young Glass across Europe (notably France) and India, infusing his work with a singular tone. As he flipped through the book, he reportedly rediscovered a personal manuscript for a piece titled Magic Psalm, which would later become his Etude No. 17.
Through her interpretation, Vanessa Wagner brings to light the delicate balance between serenity and tension in this mesmerizing composition, capturing both its poetic, wistful quality and its cinematic contrasts—inviting listeners on a journey that is as reflective as it is unsettled, much like the ever-shifting landscapes of the Hudson River.”
Coleridge-Taylor Petite Suite de Concert Op.77 (1911) Cooke High Marley Rest (1933) Delius Mazurka and Waltz for a Little Girl RTIX/7, 1 & 2 (1922-3) Headington Toccata (1963) Rubbra Eight Preludes Op.131 (1967) Scott Lotus Land Op.47/1 (1905) Armstrong Gibbs Lakeland Pictures Op.98 (1940) – no.2, After Rain (Rydal Beck); no.8, Quiet Water (Tarn Howe) Baumer Idyll (1935) Mayer Calcutta-Nagar (1993)
Peter Jacobs (piano)
Heritage HTGCD131 [73’30″] Producer & Engineer Paul Arden-Taylor
Recorded 14 & 16 September 2014 at Wyastone Concert Hall, Wyastone Leys, Monmouth
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
Heritage extends an already extensive discography of British music with its follow-up to the Peter Jacobs Anthology, a further volume featuring collections of or standalone miniatures with a wide range of musical idioms given focus through the persuasiveness of the pianism.
What’s the music like?
Among the miscellaneous pieces included here are Greville Cooke’s ruminative ‘portrait’ of the home of pianist (and his former teacher) Tobias Matthay, Delius’s respectively pert and fey offerings, or Christopher Headington’s scintillating study for John Ogdon. Cyril Scott’s evergreen is treated to a subtly understated reading, while two out of a set of eight by Cecil Armstrong Gibbs provide enticing evocations of Rydal Beck then Tarn Howe – their innate Englishness sounding removed from the overtly Russian manner of that from Cecil Baumer.
Forming the backbone of this collection are three sets that in themselves attest to the variety of the music featured. Best known in its orchestral guise (a recording of which can be found on Heritage HTGCD249), Samuel Coleridge-Taylor’s Petite Suite de Concert is light music of a superior kind – witness its flighty initial Caprice, its ingratiating Sonnet or its lively closing Tarantelle, though its ostensible highlight is Demande et Réponse whose alluring sentiment helped with keeping the composer’s memory alive prior to his belated rediscovery.
Other than figuring among its composer’s later works, the Eight Preludes by Edmund Rubbra could hardly have been more different. As with his Eighth Symphony written soon afterward, these short while arresting pieces likewise focus on specific musical intervals rather than any overall key scheme, though their cohesiveness heard as an integral sequence could never be in doubt. Introspective without being inscrutable, this is wholly absorbing music and Jacobs accords ample justice to what is only the second complete recording this set has yet received.
As the most unlikely inclusion, John Mayer’s Calcutta-Nagar proves nothing less than a total delight. Known primarily for his syntheses of Indian and European elements, notably through the group Indo-Jazz Fusions, Mayer wrote extensively for Western media with this collection a notable instance. Only two of its 18 pieces last over a minute, yet their capturing of places recalled from the Calcutta of the composer’s youth is absolute. Jacobs notes his favourite as being the 13th (Kali Temple), but listeners will doubtless come up with their own favourites.
Does it all work?
Yes, whether as a judiciously planned collection or an anthology from which one can select individual items as preferred. The three collections are each among the most distinctive of its kind, while they and the various individual pieces provide ready-made encores in recital. Evidently this is music which Jacobs has long included in his repertoire, the performances exuding that combination of technical finesse allied to a probing insight as have long been hallmarks of his interpretations. Those who are unfamiliar with this music are in for a treat.
Is it recommended?
Indeed, not least as the sound has a combination of clarity and warmth ideal for piano music. The pianist pens informative notes, and one hopes that there will be further such anthologies. Meanwhile, Jacobs approaches his 80th birthday (this August) with his pianism undimmed.
George Lloyd Aubade (1971)a; Eventide (1989)a; The Road Through Samarkand (1995)a; The Lily-leaf and the Grasshopper (1972)b; The Transformation of that Naked Ape (1972, rev. 1987)c; Lullaby ‘Intercom Baby’ (1975, arr. 1987)c; An African Shrine (1966)c; The Aggressive Fishes (1972)c; St. Antony and the Beggar (1972)c. The Road Through Samarkand (1972)c
Kathryn Stott (b), Martin Roscoe (c) (pianos) Anthony Goldstone and Caroline Clemmow (a) (piano duo)
Lyrita SRCD.2423 (two discs, 70’16” and 77’55”) Producers bcHoward Devon, aAnthony Goldstone and Caroline Clemmow with George Lloyd Engineers bcHoward Devon, aAnthony Goldstone and Caroline Clemmow with George Lloyd
Recorded b2 June 1987 at Henry Wood Hall, London; c18 & 19 June 1987 at St. Barnabas, North Finchley, London; a4 & 5 November 1996 at St. John the Baptist, Aldeburgh
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
Lyrita continues its ‘Signature Edition’ of music composed (and conducted) by George Lloyd with his works for one and two pianos, admirably performed here by a line-up of international stature including those pianists who recorded his concertos for this instrument (SRCD.2421).
What’s the music like?
As Lloyd himself recounted, training as a violinist rather prejudiced his writing for the piano, despite his wife’s prompting. It was hearing the young John Ogdon in the early 1960s that led to Scapegoat, this first piano concerto being followed by three others and several other works for piano over the ensuing decade. For all their diversity of inspiration, they have in common a determination to avoid wanton virtuosity in favour of a technical precision as never inhibits their composer’s aim to realize his musical intentions – whether idiomatically or individually.
This is evident in Lloyd’s earliest and arguably finest work for solo piano, An African Shrine. Written for Ogdon, who played it regularly and recorded in his 1970 EMI anthology Pianistic Philosophies, this takes in several sections – the vividness of whose expressive contrasts are balanced by the seamlessness with which they merge into an unbroken formal continuity. As an evocation of mindless violence, it is highly affecting and its cohesion as a one-movement ‘sonata’ makes for an indispensable addition to British piano music during the post-war era.
Lloyd followed this with the even more expansive Aubade, composed for Ogdon and his wife Brenda Lucas. Described as a ‘fantasy’, its eight sections outline a dream-like scenario which takes in charcoal burners, tin soldiers, a song then dance for two lovers, a medley of bells and chants, then moths; framed by an Introduction and Finale as set the scene thematically then sum it up unerringly. Enticingly realized for its medium if too diffuse overall, this would likely enjoy wider exposure if it were shortened and orchestrated as the ballet it cries out to become.
The year 1972 saw Lloyd immersed in the solo piano. Among these shorter pieces, The Road Through Samarkand is the most directly appealing with its amused if never sarcastic send-up of Krishna adherents in central London with many taking the journey from Calais to Calcutta, though whether the outcome is one of utopianism or disillusionment is left unanswered by the peremptory close. St Anthony and the Beggar is a direct corollary to the Biblical parable, here with an outcome of demonstrable catharsis, while The Aggressive Fishes evokes the allure yet danger of certain tropical species in music alternately atmospheric and ominous. Inspired by a citing from the banks of the Avon, The Lily-Leaf and the Grasshopper is a subtler interplay of contrasts – the insect’s quizzical demeanour emerging out of then back into a rapt waterscape.
The most substantial of these later pieces is The Transformation of the Naked Ape. Taking its cue from Lloyd’s consideration of the essential difference between animals and humans, these six movements (each longer than the last) deftly outline a progression from external to internal properties – hence from Her Hair, via those of Tongue, Eyes, Brain and Mind, to Her Soul – though any inference of increasing spirituality is scotched by the capricious final number of this highly diverting sequence, in which pleasure and provocation have been pointedly elided.
Lloyd wrote little more for piano in either medium, though his arrangement of the violin-and-piano Intercom Baby 12 years on as Lullaby turned one of his most ingratiating shorter pieces into this ideal encore – wistful and playful by turns. Drawing on a carol written when he was just ten (then used extensively in his opera John Socman), Eventide emerges as a fantasy on this tune such as adumbrates a journey from innocence to experience of deceptive simplicity and has enjoyed greater exposure in a no less effective arrangement for brass band two years on. Finally, The Road Through Samarkand makes its reappearance arranged for two pianos – the inherent virtuosity of its writing more equably realized in this medium if, as is suggested here, those elements of struggle and assumed repose more potently realized by the original.
Does it all work?
Almost always. There is a sense of this music (rather its composer) fighting against precedent as regards idiomatic piano writing, for all that the outcome feels never less than effective and often much more so. The performances are highly sympathetic and often inspired – particularly Kathryn Stott with her contributions, though Martin Roscoe affords no mean insight and lucid pianism with his larger selection. The duo of Anthony Goldstone (much missed) and Caroline Clemmow is heard to impressive effect, but sound here could do with rather greater definition.
Is it recommended?
It is. Paul Conway’s annotations feature many pertinent observations, while the solo items are recorded with ideal clarity and spaciousness. Not the first port-of-call for those new to George Lloyd, maybe, but a collection where several items warrant inclusion in the modern repertoire.
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 BusoniConcerto 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
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!