Renaud Capuçon / Stephen Hough / London Symphony Orchestra / Simon Rattle ELGAR Violin Concerto | Violin Sonata

 

VIOLIN CONCERTO | VIOLIN SONATA

Stephen Hough VIDA BREVE

 

VIDA BREVE

Stephen Hough / Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra / Hannu Lintu BEETHOVEN The Piano Concertos

THE PIANO CONCERTOS

STEPHEN HOUGH'S DREAM ALBUM

A bran tub of bonbons, yes, but much more than that: it is also a portrait of an artist in love with music of all sorts (including, with no apology, the unfashionable and the second-rate if it happens to appeal to him), of a master transcriber and of that rare animal, a concert pianist who is not afraid to mix high jinks with high art.

The first two items set the tone for the whole album: Hough’s own take on the Radetzky March transformed into a waltz in the style of Grünfeld with plenty of mischievous Godowskian figurations along the way – virtuoso, musically knowing and pianistically sophisticated. Then Das alte Lied, second of the 15 Hough transcriptions and original compositions featured on the album. It’s a nostalgic song that many will know from the recording by Richard Tauber accompanying himself on the piano (it’s known as the ‘Whispering Record’). Tauber was one of those magicians with the power to transform base metal into gold. Hough is another. I found this among the most moving pieces of the 27, along with Sibelius’s ‘The Spruce’, Chaminade’s Scarf Dance, ‘Somewhere a voice is calling’ and ‘Blow the wind southerly’ (the last two both simple Hough transcriptions). In all these we are eavesdropping, listening from next door to the pianist’s private reverie. Hough’s masterly use of the pedal and exquisite phrasing are very special accomplishments.

Everyone will have their own favourites; but elsewhere and by contrast are powerful readings of Liszt and Dohnányi, ‘Waltzing Matilda’ as a rhumba with lashings of Villa-Lobos, two transcriptions of dances from Don Quixote (the ballet) which teeter amusingly on the kitsch and, to end, Mompou’s ‘Jeunes filles au jardin’, one of the earliest pieces Hough ever played, his companion as an encore for 40 years, which he first heard as a child on a mixed album ‘much like this one’ (writes Hough), played by Clive Lythgoe.

My only cavil is that the empty concert-hall acoustic at Wyastone leads the upper treble at forte and above to fly away, sounding disembodied from the lower register. Obviously, Hough and his longtime producer Andrew Keener like the effect. It is a small matter, one of personal preference perhaps. No matter. Witty, wistful, extrovert, introspective and cheeky by turn, this is a masterclass in a certain style of piano-playing, and a dream of an album. (Jeremy Nicholas / Gramophone)

Stephen Hough DEBUSSY

It is 100 years since the death of Claude Debussy in 1918. It may have seemed at the time that the inimitably French, impressionist style he established would prove to be of less importance than the powerful ongoing musical traditions of Germany and Italy, but that is not how it looks now. Hardly any new contemporary work today passes without acknowledging some aspect of Debussy’s hugely influential exploration of texture, colour and atmosphere.

There will be many anniversary tributes throughout the year. Stephen Hough is getting in early with this all-Debussy piano disc, based on works he has been playing in recitals over the past few years.

It is surprising there has not been more of him in Debussy on disc. Anybody who has caught Hough in a live recital, or heard his scintillating recordings of Saint-Saëns’s piano concertos, will know how well the sparkling clarity of French music suits him.

A well-balanced selection embraces most of Debussy’s larger works for solo piano outside the two books of Préludes and the Études. The triptych of Estampes sets the tone with clear, atmospheric playing, given an extra warmth in Hyperion’s perfectly judged recording (it is hard to tell that two different recording venues were used over the course of the disc).

In the two groups of Images the reflections in the water ('Reflets dans l’eau') present a warm, impressionist wash of sound rather than the chiselled precision of a pianist like Michelangeli. The snowflakes in Children’s Corner fall with the softest delicacy. The delight in L’isle joyeuse is less exhilaration than joy at the radiance of a sun-soaked atmosphere. La plus que lente, played with affectionate simplicity, makes a nicely light-hearted bonus. (Richard Fairman / Financial Times)

Steven Isserlis / Stephen Hough RACHMANINOV - FRANCK Cello Sonatas

Playing together for the first time for Hyperion, Hough and Isserlis are stunningly matched in this large-scale passionate romantic programme. The sonatas stand at the centre of the meaty repertoire established by Brahms—whose two cello sonatas Steven Isserlis has recorded for us in an award-winning disc accompanied by Peter Evans (CDA66159)—and characterised by grand sweeping gestures, lush melody, and heartfelt emotions that sear from pathos to frenzy. The Franck is, of course, an alternative version the composer wished for his violin sonata, a transition that many feel to be the work's happiest incarnation. These performances are distinguished by the inspired combination of the renowned energy and panache of Isserlis with the fastidious translucency of Hough's playing, in music often despatched with more gush than gusto. Isserlis also provides a programme note very much in his own style; he examines the inspiration behind both works, coming as they do from deeply religious composers who were also the voices of greatly sensual radiance, while including reminiscences of his grandfather playing the piano part for the dedicatee of the Rachmaninov and of his grandmother learning the piano part in her 80s, to accompany her grandson! The disc is completed by what in the context may seem miniatures but which amply show how these great composers had a language of intimacy as much as expansiveness. (Hyperion Records)

'Steven Isserlis gives a deeply felt and warmly affectionate reading, abetted by Stephen Hough’s sensitive pianism' (Classics Today)

'Steven Isserlis and Stephen Hough give a serene and eloquent performance' (Gramophone)

Stephen Hough / Andris Nelsons / City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra DVORÁK - SCHUMANN Piano Concertos

Andris Nelsons and the CBSO clearly relish the symphonic nature of the piece and their playing is one of the great pleasures here. The concerto’s opening theme could be by no one else, though the mood soon darkens with a cautionary figure sounded first by violas and cellos. Nelsons imbues this with an affecting resignation, Kleiber sounding more openly disturbed. Hough enters the conversation with great subtlety and he’s certainly unafraid to point out the score’s lyrical beauties, allowing the music to unfold with suppleness without underplaying its drama or, where required, heft.

The glorious slow movement, which is launched by a New World-like horn solo, needs careful pacing: get it wrong and the question-and-answer writing can sound forced and overly sectionalised. Richter and Kleiber dare to take a slightly more drawn-out approach than this new recording, but both versions are compelling, and the CBSO players relish Dvořák’s unfettered wind-writing. Another black spot is the Risoluto (tr 2, 3'31" on the new CD); in the wrong hands its accented motif—first in the major, then the minor—can sound trite but Hough gives it a playful quality, to which the orchestra gleefully respond. Another highlight is the very end of the slow movement, where the piano-writing ascends, drawing the orchestra up with it.

I slightly prefer Richter’s way with the foot-stomping theme that opens the finale, which is superbly complemented by the earthiness of Kleiber’s orchestra. Hough sounds just a tad deliberate by comparison (compared to Piemontesi too, who is fearless here). This is a hideously ungrateful movement for the pianist and Hough is remarkable in not having a note out of place. And he certainly brings the house down at the end, setting the seal on a performance that is full of panache.

From a work at the margins of the repertoire to one that is absolutely centre stage. The Schumann Concerto is, in Hough’s hands, both boldly symphonic and utterly flexible, the pianist hardly making life easy for the conductor—though Nelsons is completely unfazed. The opening is strong and bold, adjectives that apply equally to the first movement’s cadenza, which has grandeur as well as excitement. Sample tr 4 from 4'50" and this will give you a taster: Hough, first solo and then as chamber musician, is ravishing but also dangerously becalmed. But for me a bigger stumbling block is the way he turns Schumann’s Intermezzo into something altogether more languorous (the stretched-out cello theme at 1'21" will give you an idea); just compare Shelley in this movement—to my mind pretty much unsurpassed among modern-day recordings. Symphonic breadth triumphs over Mozartian lightness in the finale, yet that weight is offset by some superbly delicate figuration from Hough.

So a slightly mixed bag; but this version of the Dvořák should put it on the map for a new generation. Personal and heartfelt notes from Steven Isserlis and a superbly natural recording complete the package. (Gramophone)