CHOPIN Impromptu in c#, Op. 66/4, “Fantaisie.” Nocturnes: in Db, Op. 27/2; in Eb, Op. 9/2; in c#, Op. posth. Etudes: in Gb, Op. 10/5, “Black Key”; in Ab, Op. 25/1, “Aeolian Harp”; in F, Op. 10/8, “Sunshine”; in c, Op. 10/12, “Revolutionary.” Preludes: in e, Op. 28/4; in Db, Op. 28/15, “Raindrop.” Waltzes: in Db, Op. 64/1, “Minute Waltz”; in c#, Op. 64/2. Souvenir de Paganini, B 37. Ballad No. 1 in g, Op. 23 • Warren Mailley-Smith (pn) • SLEVELESS 1002 (55: 05)
Prize-winning British pianist Warren Mailley-Smith is another young artist whose career is off to a running start. Solo debuts in London (Wigmore Hall) and New York (Carnegie Hall) were met with critical acclaim, and in 2011, he soloed with the Royal Philharmonic in Beethoven’s “Emperor” Concerto. With the release of this Chopin recital, recorded in 2009 at Champs Hill, Mailley-Smith, according to his bio, has six albums under his belt, ranging in repertoire from Mozart and Beethoven to Liszt.
For his Chopin program, Mailley-Smith has chosen a number of the composer’s most popular items—the “Black Key” and “Revolutionary” etudes, the “Raindrop” Prelude, and the nearly two-minute, “Minute Waltz.” Interestingly, he has also chosen pieces from among all but two of Chopin’s major work types or categories. Missing are any selections from the mazurkas and the polonaises. Perhaps the pianist will give us some of those in a future recording.
As I believe I’ve noted once or twice before, Chopin is not one of my favorite composers. Much of his music makes me feel depressed, and not in a good way, his famous E-Minor Prelude, op. 28/4, being a prime example. So, any pianist who can overcome my ambivalence towards Chopin and gain my rapt attention for nearly an hour-long program of his works deserves special notice. Mailley-Smith is such a pianist.
For one thing, by mixing pieces of different types and alternating slow and fast numbers, Mailley-Smith’s recital provides the listener with variety and balance. It also provides the pianist with myriad opportunities to display both his technical prowess and his poetical sensibilities. In neither area does he disappoint. His “Revolutionary” Etude and G-Minor Ballad, for example, are quite electrifying, while his “Raindrop” Prelude and Db-Major Nocturne are truly heartfelt and touching.
The immaculate acoustics of the Champs Hill hall pick up Mailley-Smith’s Steinway with unusual purity and transparency, making this an all-around very desirable and strongly recommended release.
SALUT D’AMOUR • Matthew Jones (vn); Annabel Thwaite (pn) • SLEEVELESS 1006 (62:17)
GERSHWIN (arr. Heifetz) It Ain’t Necessarily So. MASSENET Méditation. CHOPIN Nocturnes: in c?; in D?. ELGAR Salut d’amour. FAURÉ (arr. Bachmann) Après un rêve. PONCE (arr. Heifetz) Estrellita. CASPI La Trenza. MONTI Czardas. SCHUBERT Impromptu in B?. HAHN Nocturne. IRELAND Cavatina. SIBELIUS Romance. KREISLER Praeludium and Allegro. TRADITIONAL (arr. Gover) Suo Gân
Serious-minded programmers (or, at least, programmers of a certain well-delineated stripe) almost banished short pieces, which had been the meat and potatoes of the recital program as well as of the recording industry, from stages and discs for about a generation. Now intrepid artists Matthew Jones and Annabel Thwaite have torn down the “Do Not Enter” signs and have risked their musical lives exploring the dangerous proscribed (politically incorrect?) repertoire that arguably ruined careers and reputations 50 years ago (but, of course, made them 50 years before that). And to their credit—or discredit—they play stylishly in Jascha Heifetz’s saucy transcription of George Gershwin’s song, It Ain’t Necessarily So—if not with Heifetz’s own dazzling aplomb, pleasantly excitingly at least. Jules Massenet’s Méditation may be the most beloved short piece ever played on the violin, and the duo plays it that way. The tone of Jones’s violin exhibits a sort of acidulous edge—just as did Aaron Rosand’s or Zino Francescatti’s, although in the cases of both those older violinists, the edge lent what they played a sort of sizzle that Jones’s playing lacks. Nathan Milstein made a very violinistic-sounding arrangement of Chopin’s Nocturne in C? Minor; and though that piece might have fit well in the program, Thwaite plays it as a piano solo—so sensitively and atmospherically that even violinists might be glad not to have heard the arrangement for violin. Jones and Thwaite realize much of the veiled emotion of Elgar’s popular miniature Salut d’amour as well as the quiet intensity of the beginning of Gabriel Fauré’s short piece, Après un rêve. Heifetz’s arrangement of Estrellita might have been his calling card, but Jones makes it his own as well in a reading that’s warmer and more tender.
The program includes some less well-known but no less effective interludes, of which Avshalom Caspi’s brooding miniature La Trenza proves to be the first example. Vittorio Monti’s Czardas, like Massenet’s Méditation, has been one of the most frequently heard of violin encores, penetrating the popular repertoire almost as deeply as the standard one. Jones remains faithful to the original version, but he plays it with gusto and appealing ethnic coloration. Thwaite takes Franz Schubert’s Impromptu as a piano solo, exhibiting a firm grasp of the piece’s shape and making the most of its growling lower registers. Reynaldo Hahn’s Nocturne, another of the less familiar cameos, sounds allusive and affecting in Jones’s reading, as does John Ireland’s Cavatina, a piece that may strike some listeners as perhaps a bit more effective than the vastly better known piece by the same name by Joachim Raff. Sibelius’s Romance provides yet another example of a relative unknown that fits perfectly into the program, and Jones invests it with melting warmth and insinuating subtlety. Chopin’s Nocturne in D? Major serves as the last of the Thwaite’s three effective piano solos.
Fritz Kreisler never recorded his own Praeludium and Allegro—by many accounts his very best short violin piece. Also, by Carl Flesch’s account, Kreisler didn’t take the Allegro particularly fast. And while the opening quarter notes may look bland on the page, violinists like Francescatti could bring them to life. So does Jones, who belts them out with the panache of Ethel Merman the first time and plays them almost tentatively the second. Like Kreisler himself, however, Jones makes no attempt to rush through the Allegro and deploys a variety of bow strokes to give extra personality to the perpetual motion. Following Francescatti in a way, he’s dazzling in the cadenza over a pedal point. The duo brings the program to a quiet conclusion with a Welsh lullaby, reflecting Jones’s ethnic origins.
If this isn’t the very CD of choice for a sojourn on a desert isle, I certainly wouldn’t use it as a Frisbee in that setting either. For its interesting repertoire, familiar and unfamiliar alike, for its sensitive and idiomatic performances, for its clear recorded sound, and, not least, for the novelty of including piano solos to punctuate it, Jones and Thwaite’s unpretentious but prepossessing recital should wear well after many, many hearings, whatever the venue. Strongly recommended.
