Eloquence has revived Vladimir Ashkenazy’s 1985 Ravel disc, a release that’s long been off the radar. I bought the original CD shortly after it came out, but rarely played it. As it happens, Gaspard de la nuit sounds better than I remember. While Ashkenazy’s 1965 recording (most recently reissued as part of Philips’ deleted Great Pianists series) offers more impetuous, colorful playing all around, the remake benefits from stronger architectural grounding, notably in the outer movements. Ondine’s rubatos have more natural ebb and flow this time, while sharper characterization and wider dynamic contrasts further vivify Scarbo’s key component parts (the jabbing repeated notes, the ominous opening motif in all its guises). Le Gibet’s intelligent delineation and fluid calm prove refreshing in light of the droopy over-interpretations that seem to proliferate these days.
By contrast, the relatively literal-minded Pavane falls short of the subtle hues and melodic arcs Angela Hewitt and Abbey Simon bring to the piece. And the rather metallic sound quality that affects louder passages seems more pronounced in Valses nobles et sentimentales, further underlining Ashkenazy’s lack of delicacy and perfumed lilt, notwithstanding his absolute command of the notes and markings.
Two Ravel selections featuring Naida Cole fill out the disc. Reviewing Jeux d’eau on Cole’s debut Decca release, I wrote of how she telegraphed the climactic points and treated some of the arpeggiated figures too brusquely for comfort, evoking not so much a fountain as a hailstorm. But her account of Miroirs still impresses, and I refer readers to my earlier, more detailed comments (type Q6229 in Search Reviews).
