Search - Igor Stravinsky, Pyotr Il'yich Tchaikovsky, Denis Matsuev :: Stravinsky: Three Movements from Petrouchka; Tchaikovsky: The Seasons

A real, wowie-zowie Russian Pianist: But musical, oh so musi

Dan Fee | Berkeley, CA USA | 11/06/2006

(5 out of 5 stars)

"Given the marketing hype from RCA/BMG/Sony, one may at first take Denis Matsuev for yet another prodigiously gifted keyboard wizard from those vast frozen expanses which we still know as the former USSR. Now the apparatchik factories that seemed to churn out Soviet Socialist pianists at such a high level with such frequency have passed into history, but apparently not the virtuoso touches of the newer generations playing the piano. Mr. Matsuev hails from Siberia, and born into a musical family in 1975, he must now be in his thirties. Too young to be hailed as another young Horowitz, or Gilels, or Richter; but worth our attention nonetheless.



The repertoire on this CD is Stravinsky's piano reduction/suite from the famous second ballet, Petrushka. Artur Rubinstein originally commissioned it, and then found it challenging and difficult to play, so he rarely programmed it in his many concerts. This pianistic Petrushka has gained a reputation among pianists and audiences, akin to that admired but still marginal place where we find Mussorgsky's original piano version of the Pictures At An Exhibition. Whereas the original Pictures has tended to lose its glamour as it got compared to Ravel's stunning orchestration, in this case both the orchestral and keyboard versions are genuine Stravinsky. Like the lush first version of the Firebird ballet, the first edition of Petrushka uses a fabulous Romantic orchestra but sounds nothing at all like post-Wagnerian hyperbole. One senses the brilliance of Rimsky-Korsakov, Stravinsky's teacher, without in the least faulting the merit and style of either composer.



A lot of this lushness that nevertheless remains indelibly modern has to do with Matsuev's tone. It is entirely itself. Certainly Matsuev has all the virtuous chops needed to show off, if that is what he wishes to do. His technical means, alone, would get him provisionally nominated into that high art circle that already includes almost too many famous Russian pianists to name. He could be mentioned in the same serious and musical breath as the Rubinstein brothers, Adolf Henselt, Alexander Siloti - or more recently, Horowitz and Gilels and Richter and Berman - or more recently still, Arkady Volodos. The edgy, nervous mastery that described Horowitz is mainly missing from Matsuev's sound. The lean, metal edge that Gilels could sharpen is mostly absent, replaced by something that sounds entirely sumptuous and full. The sense of ease underpinning the immense keyboard command of Richter is equaled here by Matsuev, but rather with an even greater tonal palette that never loses its depth or sheen. If I had to put Matsuev in a inheritor of one famous Russian player, I suspect that it would have to be the deservedly great Anton Rubinstein.



So this pianistic Petrushka is fat and sensuous, though all the characters still dance all over the place with resounding vigor in all the big opening ballet scenes as transcribed. Loud or soft, Matsuev never falls into grey tones, and everything is managed with a sense of brilliance, perspective, and variety.



If any player now before us on disc could rescue the pianistic Petrushka from its marginality, then, this performance probably fits the bill.

All that makes Petrushka so compelling and surprising is even more gloriously displayed in the cycle of twelve short pieces by Tchaikovsky, called The Seasons. They, too, have languished on the edges of the main concert repertoire. A few of them have done regular service as sweet encores, including the Barcarolle (June), Autumn Song (October), and Troika (November).



The received wisdom about all twelve is that they are occasional pieces, first written on order to publish in a bourgeosie musical magazine, one to a month. Something nice for drawing room amateurs to play, musically having as much to do with good middle-class manners of a certain era as with Tchaikovsky's deeper magic.



Listening to Matsuev, I think most people will re-evaluate the cycle. No, none of these twelve little pieces is going to displace, say, the piano sonatas of Scriabin as central Russian piano repertoire. But they embody much more value than they typically receive from us, especially as Matsuev reveals them. What love, what attention, Matsuev brings to bear upon each entry in the twelve. He varies his touch, phrasing, and soulful Russian song so creatively that one even forgets to marvel while one is listening, charmed completely. Later, you cannot avoid realizing that only a very special master could make these twelve little pieces sound just like that. Matsuev does not for a mini-second play down to the music. Nor does he push or pull or inflate anything in the music beyond its meaning, size, or musical integrity. That is to say: Matsuev here avoids almost every single performance trap that has marred too many of the previous recordings of Tchaikovsky's Seasons. These twelve chapters of the cycle are presented in continuity, whole, but nothing is bogged down - neither in drawing room sameness, nor blurred emphasis.



How deftly, with immense musical love, does Matsuev let the Russian melody sing, while letting the accompaniments move things along, flexibly, variously according to the changing needs of the musical moment. Tchaikovsky's genius is miniaturized here, like a bejeweled legacy Swiss watch movement, and all gears perfectly to persistently amazing musical ends. When Matsuev lets some counter-melody, or passing chord of harmony, or smartly etched rhythmic step out to do its part, the shifting musical characterizations remain just right. Even the rubato is masterful here. The music moves alive - Like the lingering at the top of a great musical sung phrase, like the breathing of a very great singer, indeed that type of consummately involved and intelligent singer to whose concerts we know we must return, and with whom we eventually realize we have fallen in love - these marvelous little gems move along



This disc provides exemplary readings of both Petrushka and the Seasons. Unless you dislike these works or you dislike piano, you will probably be pleased to add Matsuev to your going list of musicians discovered.



Five stars. Very highly recommended."