Composer: Johann Sebastian BACH (1685-1750)/ Ferrucio BUSONI (1866-1924)/ Mikhail GLINKA (1804-57)/ Modest MUSSORGSKY (1839-81)
Works: Toccata, Adagio and Fugue in C, BWV 564; The Lark (arr. Balakirev); Pictures at an Exhibition
Performers: Evgeny Kissin, piano
Recording: Recorded at SWR-Studio, Freiburg, Germany on August 5th-6th, 2001
Label: RCA Red Seal 09026-63884-2 [57’25]
Evgeny Kissin’s latest recording offers a compelling journey through a diverse repertoire, bridging the Baroque intricacies of Bach with the rich tapestry of Russian Romanticism in Glinka and Mussorgsky. The presence of Busoni’s elaborate arrangement of the Toccata, Adagio and Fugue in C BWV 564 serves as a testament to the enduring dialogue between eras and styles, illustrating the complexity and grandeur inherent in the works of Bach, which Busoni sought to enhance through his Romantic lens. This juxtaposition sets the stage for a multifaceted exploration of Kissin’s interpretative approach.
Kissin’s technical prowess is beyond reproach, yet it is within the performance of the Bach-Busoni that one finds a dissonance between virtuosity and emotional depth. The Toccata opens with vigorous dexterity, but the lack of majesty that Busoni envisioned is palpable. The fortissimo passages, particularly around the 5’17 mark, veer into a harshness that disrupts the contemplative nature of the work. Here, Kissin exhibits commendable fingerwork, but the emotional breadth seems stunted, lacking the ‘rich in feeling’ quality that Busoni attributed to his own arrangement. The ensuing Fugue, however, emerges as a high point, showcasing Kissin’s ability to build tension and navigate complex counterpoint with clarity and purpose, almost as if he seeks to redeem the preceding sections through a more profound engagement with thematic development.
Transitioning to Glinka’s “The Lark,” arranged by Balakirev, Kissin reveals a different facet of his artistry. The piece, with its delicate lyricism, finds him at his most expressive, the treble lines beautifully articulated with a limpid quality that enchants the listener. This five-minute interlude stands out as a highlight of the disc, contrasting sharply with the preceding Bach-Busoni performance. The clear sound engineering enhances the intimate nuances of the piece, allowing Kissin’s interpretative sensitivity to shine through.
Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition, a staple of the piano repertoire, presents another challenge for Kissin. His interpretation unfolds cumulatively, yet certain choices evoke questions about pacing and character. The opening “Promenade,” while spirited, lacks the gravitas that might anchor the listener’s journey through the exhibition. The subsequent “Tuileries” feels somewhat devoid of the wit and whimsy so essential to its character. Yet, moments of brilliance do emerge; “Il vecchio castello” captivates with its hypnotic depth, while “Market Place at Limoges” bursts forth with life, showcasing Kissin’s capacity for vivid storytelling. However, the climactic “The Hut on Fowl’s Legs (Baba-Yaga)” eclipses the “Great Gate,” leaving a lingering impression that perhaps overshadows the intended grandeur of Mussorgsky’s closing statement.
Sound quality, recorded at SWR-Studio, is crisp and clear, allowing for the intricate details of Kissin’s performance to resonate fully. The bright recording, nonetheless, can amplify the more aggressive passages, revealing a slight imbalance in dynamic control.
Kissin’s latest endeavor, while technically accomplished, raises questions about interpretative depth and emotional engagement across these varied works. The interplay between technical skill and expressive content proves uneven, especially in the Bach-Busoni and Mussorgsky segments. For those seeking a definitive interpretation of these works, more compelling alternatives exist, particularly in the form of Sviatoslav Richter’s interpretations, which embody a more profound understanding of the music’s emotional landscape. This recording, while showcasing Kissin’s formidable talent, ultimately invites listeners to ponder the layers of expression that remain tantalizingly out of reach.
