In a recent lecture, Liszt biographer Alan Walker explained how Liszt essentially invented the piano recital, with the idea that a program should have a narrative thread or connecting, unifying theme. This is what Pierre-Laurent Aimard has done in the two recital programs presented here. Somehow Wagner’s early and obscure A-flat sonata (more redolent of Weber and Schumann than the mature Wagner) and Berg’s Op. 1 sonata sit well next to Liszt’s gloomy, starkly lit La lugubre gondola and Nuages gris, although the Scriabin Ninth sonata’s gradually unfolding textural complexity and diffuse harmonies seem a strange lead-in to Liszt’s B minor sonata.
The high-register arpeggio sprays and bird chirping evocations in Liszt’s first St. Francis Legend effortlessly dovetail into Marco Stroppa’s Tangata manu–a structurally diffuse compendium of the 20th century’s most imitated piano textures. This leads directly into Liszt’s Les Jeux d’eau à la Villa d’Este, followed by its direct descendant, (you guessed it) Ravel’s Jeux d’eau.
Certain performances succeed more than others. While the Liszt Sonata’s rapid figurations benefit from the heightened clarity of Aimard’s nimble left hand, his literal minded interpretation lacks the bravura, dynamism, and dramatic sweep that pianists so disparate as Arrau, Argerich, Richter, and Hamelin bring to the score. You particularly notice this via Aimard’s dry treatment of the notoriously difficult octave sections and the lack of melodic animation in lyrical parts. I also miss the sensual nuance and textural layering that I associate with the Scriabin and Ravel works’ finest performances.
On the other hand, the second program’s opening and closing selections, Liszt’s Aux cyprès de la Villa d’Este I and Vallée d’Obermann, are quite flexible and impassioned. The Berg Sonata proves more subjective, contrapuntally diverse, and colorful compared to Aimard’s earlier Teldec recording. Aimard’s reputation as a world-class Messiaen exponent is thoroughly borne out by his assured accuracy and gorgeous tonal control in Le Traquet stapazin from Catalogue d’oiseaux. In short, Aimard’s best moments make these fascinating and effective programs all the more worthwhile. If only he could have come up with a less hackneyed title than “The Liszt Project”!
