Search - Michael Krucker :: Alexander Dreyschock-Romantische Klaviermusik

"Hannibal of the octaves"? Not here...

Hexameron | 08/03/2007

(4 out of 5 stars)

"Alexander Dreyschock (1818-1869) is seldom heard or spoken of these days. He falls in line with the Parisian virtuosi Herz, Thalberg, and Kalkbrenner as a man of his time, but one who never established himself as a serious composer. Dreyschock is best remembered as that technical god of the piano, the "Hannibal of the octaves" as Mendelssohn called him. Harold Schonberg labels him the "Vladimir Horowitz of his day." And why not, when the man created a furor in Paris, played the left hand part of Chopin's Revolutionary Etude in octaves, and called attention (good and bad) from Heine, Schumann, Cramer, and Liszt? Dreyschock studied with the Czech composer, Johann Tomaschek, and developed a left hand technique never imagined before his time. Theodor Kullak believed his technique was greater than Liszt's, and Cramer made the famous declaration: "The man has no left hand! Here are two right hands."



Dreyschock's stellar pianism will always be acknowledged, but what about his compositions? Of his 140 opus numbers, who knows a single note from this forgotten artist? I'm aware of only two recordings including this one that introduces Dreyschock's piano music. The other is the fine Hyperion release of the brilliant Piano Concerto in D minor (Kullak / Dreyschock: Piano Concertos). Schumann, whose music criticism should be taken with a grain of salt, showed no reserve in lambasting Dreyschock's music: "We have not encountered anything so insipid for many a long day. What a poverty of imagination and melody... Nobody who, setting aside the agility of his fingers, would draw his attention to the soullessness and nothingness of such music?" Indeed, the artistic value of Dreyschock's miniatures is decidedly below those of Schumann, Mendelssohn, Chopin and Liszt. Yet Dreyschock should not be ignored for being a lesser composer. His music might not exist on the highest intellectual or emotionally penetrating level, but it can delight and entertain just fine without being compared to the works of the "greats."



While I did find some of these pieces banal, there are others that I think are actually quite remarkable and attractive to the ear. "Le Chant du Combat," the first piece that begins this recording, has a captivating mix of tenderness and extravagance. Dreyschock's ability to write adequate cantabile melodies is clear in both "Nocturnes", while the "Invitation a la Polka" is brimming with extrovert charm. Dreyschock's finest collection is the Soiree d'hiver Op. 92. The exquisite beauty of the "Nocturne" and "Romance" from this set are quite pronounced, and the "Le danse des Sorcieres" (Witches' Dance) should have been revived long ago. With such a fine fabric of pictorial, poetic and virtuosic characteristics, this Witches Dance reminds me of the etudes of Moscheles and Henselt. "La Fontaine," dedicated to the violinist Ferdinand David, is an example of Dreyschock's Romantic dialect and recalls the sound world of Schumann and Mendelssohn. The most convincing illustration of Dreyschock's compositional talents appears in the dramatic and extensive "Morceau pathetique," which displays Dreyschock's penchant for showing off octave runs and technical fireworks. The piece is actually not that flamboyant, though: there are plenty of gentle contrasting sections and lyric passagework separating the bravura writing. Michael Krucker is a pianist who seems quite comfortable tackling the neglected repertoire. He has recorded rarities of Moscheles and Kalkbrenner and prefers playing them on authentic pianos. In this Dreyschock exhibition, he uses a Herz grand built in 1866, which manages to sound crisp, silvery, but full.



Bottom line: The liner-notes begins by saying: "Those who are looking for an arsenal of finger-breaking octaves, sixths or thirds in this first recording of these piano pieces by Alexander Dreyschock will perhaps be disappointed. They are there, of course. In abundance. But they are not in the foreground. Dreyschock was not only a composer but an experienced virtuoso, and as such he mostly saved his thundering octave magic for the end." Moreover, the music on this recording does not suggest a roaring virtuosic Liszt, but rather the mellow Romanticism of Stephen Heller. And while some of these pieces are not that striking, there are a few gems here that a fan of Romantic piano music will find endearing."