Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Kristian Bezuidenhout. Mostrar todas las entradas
Mostrando entradas con la etiqueta Kristian Bezuidenhout. Mostrar todas las entradas
lunes, 22 de marzo de 2021
jueves, 27 de agosto de 2020
lunes, 10 de febrero de 2020
viernes, 24 de mayo de 2019
Kristian Bezuidenhout / Pablo Heras-Casado / Freiburger Barockorchester MENDELSSOHN Piano Concerto No.2 - Symphony No. 1
Mendelssohn’s first symphonic work scored for full orchestra, the
Symphony op. 11 in C minor paved the way for even greater examples of
the genre he was soon to produce. The concert overture Die schöne
Melusine and the sparkling Piano Concerto No. 2 rely on the type of
orchestration and harmonic language which are best served when played on
period instruments, as heard here. Devoid of the atmosphere of Romantic
doom and gloom, nearly every page of both scores is marked by an
exuberant cheerfulness, youthful drive, and irrepressible energy.
viernes, 1 de febrero de 2019
Kristian Bezuidenhout JOSEPH HAYDN Piano Sonatas Hob. XVI:6, 20 & 48
A few years after a complete recording of Mozart's solo piano works that
has gradually come to be regarded as a benchmark, Kristian Bezuidenhout
has taken all the time he needed to tackle Haydn, the other towering
figure of the Viennese Classical keyboard repertory: 'Preparing for this
recording has been a vivid reminder that it is remarkably difficult to
play Haydn's music well, but that with enough care, and attention to
detail, his music has the potential to come jumping from the page. It
would be hubris to suggest that I am even close to unlocking any of its
secrets, but I am so humbled by the sheer beauty, humanity, wit and
delightful irony of this music, that the desire to continue is
irresistible.'
jueves, 20 de septiembre de 2018
Mark Padmore / Kristian Bezuidenhout SCHUBERT Winterreise
Only a few months after Florian Boesch’s second recording of
Schubert’s great wintry song-cycle (Hyperion, A/17), here’s a second
bite at the bitter cherry from another singer, albeit a very different
one. With Mark Padmore at least there’s been a longer intervening
period: it’s nine years since the release of his previous Winterreise, a 2010 Gramophone
Award-winner, also on Harmonia Mundi. And there’s a major difference
here, too, in that not only is Paul Lewis replaced by Kristian
Bezuidenhout but a modern concert grand is switched for a Graf
fortepiano.
As with the earlier recording, there’s a wealth of interest to be
found at the keyboard. Here the instrument itself is beautifully mellow,
with an especially tender con sordini sound as well as some
brightness in the tone when required – not often, admittedly, in this
most subdued of cycles. I love the hazy twang Bezuidenhout produces at
the start of ‘Der Lindenbaum’, the wild clanging of the ‘Wetterfahne’
and the real sense he gives in ‘Die Krähe’ of the bird swirling
ominously about. The melody of ‘Frühlingstraum’ is imbued with so much
hope, that of ‘Der Leiermann’ with so little, its opening drone, played
much as Lewis plays it, resembling less notes than just a pained, numb
sound.
Bezuidenhout spreads his chords occasionally and offers a light
sprinkling of ornaments, as does Padmore. And in the later stages of
the cycle, in particular, the tenor offers singing of remarkable
patience, control and concentration (listen to how he builds up ‘Das
Wirtshaus’). The final songs are moving, and Padmore’s intelligence and
seriousness are never in doubt, his interpretation always probing.
One notices, however, that the voice has lost some juice: he
struggles to offer warmth to counter the blanched tone he employs
elsewhere, while the lower register is underpowered. His German, too, is
strangely affected, with vowels self-consciously opened up and
consonants over-deliberate. The earlier recording, five minutes slower,
features many of the same interpretative touches and characteristics,
but they are more worrying here, less convincing. Matters are not
helped, either, by engineering that places the voice in a strange
quasi-ecclesiastical halo.
Padmore’s fans will no doubt snap his new recording up, but I’d
otherwise recommend sticking with the earlier one, featuring Lewis’s
warm, deeply human contribution at the keyboard. And if fortepiano’s
what you need, head to Christoph Prégardien and Andreas Staier for
something altogether more grounded, satisfying and idiomatic. (Hugo Shirley / Gramophone)
viernes, 26 de enero de 2018
Isabelle Faust / Kristian Bezuidenhout J.S. BACH Sonatas for Violin & Harpsichord
"Isabelle Faust has never cultivated the whale-boned red-carpet
glamour that many female soloists feel obliged to pursue. On stage and
off, the German violinist's manner is relaxed, her style understated.
She sports a gamine, Jeanne d'Arc crop and, save for the tell-tale
violinist's love-bite just below her jaw, you might guess her to be an
architect or an academic. In a way, she is both, for an appreciation of
musical structure and an interest in historical research are integral to
her work.
The stillness of focus and purity of sound that has distinguished her
playing can be heard in a repertoire stretching from Beethoven and
Schubert through to Hartmann and Ligeti, on modern and period strings.
Where other violinists dazzle, Faust is a thinker. On the subject of her
own individual sound, she is hesitant: "Of course, I'm trying to be me
in whatever repertoire I'm playing, and I do think that my work is
different from that of other violinists – but actually I'm never really
trying to keep to this idea of an individual sound. It's always my goal
to get a different interpretation and also a different kind of voice
particular to the voice of the composer." (Anna Picard / The Guardian)
viernes, 20 de mayo de 2016
Kristian Bezuidenhout MOZART Keyboard Music Vol. 1
Kristian Bezuidenhout MOZART Keyboard Music Vol. 2
Kristian Bezuidenhout MOZART Keyboard Music Vol. 3
Kristian Bezuidenhout MOZART Keyboard Music Vol. 4
Listeners can choose from among a number of historical-instrument performances of Mozart's keyboard works. There are the compelling irregular, somewhat abrupt versions by Andreas Staier, the expressive readings of Ronald Brautigam, the clean-lined treatments of Malcolm Bilson, and now a cycle by South African-British fortepianist Kristian Bezuidenhout on the Harmonia Mundi label. Bezuidenhout is a somewhat experimental player, and his ideas (as in his bizarre concerto readings) can backfire. But one of the strengths of his series has been his choices among fortepianos built by American-Czech maker Paul McNulty, copying instruments by Viennese builder Anton Walter of Mozart's and Beethoven's time. Here he uses a copy of an 1805 Walter instrument, a real powerhouse that's a couple of decades too late for much of the music. But it works, for these are for the most part big works in which Mozart was exploiting every bit of the new instrument's capabilities; Bezuidenhout's slight exaggeration of pianistic effects allows him, as it were, to bring out Mozart's excitement at discovering these capabilities. The two minor-key fantasies and the Prelude and Fugue in C major, K. 394, are presented here in muscular, intense readings that work very well. Even better are the 12 Variations on "Je suis Lindor" in B flat major, K. 354, which can be a very tricky work to bring beyond the mundane. In Bezuidenhout's hands it's a sonic adventure. It might be argued that, composed in the year 1778, these variations are close to the dividing line between fortepiano and harpsichord, but Bezuidenhout certainly makes a strong case for them as piano works, and a work written for his own virtuoso use in Paris would likely have been conceived with the latest technology in mind. The location of the recording by Harmonia Mundi USA is not specified, but it is quite fine: the inner workings of the fortepiano are heard but not fetishized. (James Manheim)
Kristian Bezuidenhout MOZART Keyboard Music Vols. 5 & 6
Mozart’s solo keyboard music inhabits a somewhat isolated corner.
Great Mozartians from Clifford Curzon to Alfred Brendel to Clara Haskil
left surprisingly few recordings of the solo sonatas and variations,
which is why Kristian Bezuidenhout’s mandate to record all of them on
fortepiano for Harmonia Mundi catches the attention. Hearing the discs
themselves, one can hardly take one’s ears off the performances because
they go so far inside the music and reverse much of what you thought you
knew.
Bezuidenhout seems to piggyback lesser works (variations) on to major
ones (sonatas) by juxtaposing them together, paired according to
similar chronology, revealing moments of synchronicity as well as
dramatic leaps in Mozart’s evolution, such as on Vol 7 when the 1773 Six
Variations on ‘Mio caro Adone’ in G major, K180, are followed, in 1774,
by the gargantuan theme-and-variations final movement of the Piano Sonata in D major, K284, showing Mozart working with an invention and
rigour that almost sound like another composer. Elsewhere, though,
Mozart’s freewheeling variations, at least in these performances, are
doorways into the composer’s psyche in ways that the more formal,
polished sonatas are not. The variations were like Mozart’s secret
garden, offering glimpses of his improvisatory spirit. Dare I say that
Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations came to mind repeatedly in these three volumes?
‘When Mozart played a simple scale,’ wrote Wanda Landowska, quoting
the composer’s contemporaries, ‘it became transformed into a cavatina.’
That sums up the Bezuidenhout difference. His typical Mozartian
attributes include firm command of structure, great instincts for
sympathetic tempi and a technique refined enough to get at the tiniest
details – in contrast to Paul Badura-Skoda’s more forceful but
generalised fortepiano sonorities (Gramola). More distinctively,
Bezuidenhout’s elastic tempi give him room to probe for meaning but also
allow panache that’s so much a part of Mozart’s buoyant temperament and
prompts some delightfully elongated final cadences. Not only does one
hear the notes with more transparency than on a modern instrument but
one also gets a stronger sense of Mozart’s larger world. Bezuidenhout’s
stealth weapon, though, may be the unequal temperament of his copy of an
1805 Anton Walter instrument. The popular notion that equal temperament
reigned exclusively after JS Bach just isn’t true. Experiments with
alternative tuning – I’m thinking of Peter Serkin playing late Beethoven
– can be colouristic revelations, which is also true of Bezuidenhout.
So if you can only afford one volume of this series, which would it be? I
refuse to say. Hear them all. (Gramophone)
Kristian Bezuidenhout MOZART Keyboard Music Vol. 7
The cycle of Mozart's complete keyboard music by Kristian Bezuidenhout
has gained plenty of notice for its sheer originality and energy,
including some from U.S. Grammy nominators at the end of 2015 for this
volume. It's one of the best of the Bezuidenhout cycle, using the fortepianist's copy of an 1805 Anton Walter instrument (by the great American-Czech builder Paul McNulty)
to magnificent effect in the almost symphonic Piano Sonata in D major,
K. 284. In that work, taking all the repeats in the finale and
introducing substantial tempo rubato in the repeats, Bezuidenhout gives the work an epic quality. But he does this with all of Mozart's
variation sets, including the small one recorded here at the beginning.
The Piano Sonata in A minor, K. 310, with its slashing accents and
tense atmosphere, takes on a Beethovenian quality. Bezuidenhout in general emphasizes the experimental, proto-Romantic side of Mozart's
musical personality and greatly minimizes the graceful Classical (and
French) side. Whether you accept this may be a matter of taste, but it
works exceptionally well in the two sonatas here, masterpieces of Mozart's middle period in Bezuidenhout's hands. Highly recommended. (James Manheim)
jueves, 19 de mayo de 2016
Kristian Bezuidenhout MOZART Keyboard Music Vols. 8 & 9
Kristian Bezuidenhout's cycle of Mozart's complete keyboard music concludes with this double album, which contains some real rarities that are ideally suited to Bezuidenhout's tough, wiry style. As such, it may not be the item to pick if you want to sample the series, but it's often fascinating. Bezuidenhout's basic modus operandi is to give considerable weight even to works conventionally thought of as light, using his powerful fortepiano (a copy of an 1805 Walter instrument by builder Paul McNulty) and its unequal-temperament tuning to bring out dissonances and sinewy lines rarely heard elsewhere. Here he has some really radical experiments to work with, and even if you find Bezuidenhout's readings idiosyncratic at times, you'll likely appreciate the likes of the Modulating Prelude F-C, K. deest (it is indubitably by Mozart), or the Menuetto in D major, K. 355, with its daring harmonies barely matched elsewhere in Mozart's output. Several of the sonata-form movements were abandoned by Mozart for one reason or another and have been completed by Mozart scholar Robert Levin; the joints are hard to hear. Some pieces, such as the Modulating Prelude and the Four Preludes, K. 284a, are examples of Mozart's improvisational abilities, which were rarely captured in notation. In the larger and more usual works, Bezuidenhout applies a heavy touch to the Piano Sonatas K. 279 and 280, and to three large variations sets, which are generally given a touch of French elegance. But in the Nine Variations on a Minuet by Duport, K. 573, Bezuidenhout achieves utterly distinctive results in a work that has almost no harmonic content and is completely about register and space. Bezuidenhout's Mozart is, to be sure, a matter of taste, but this is a fine conclusion to his series. (James Manheim)
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