With the New Year upon us, many people are inspired to turn over a new leaf and to motivate themselves to adopt new habits and behaviours. The use of affirmations – ‘positive’ statements that reflect a supportive way of thinking and being – is one commonly applied way to do change our thoughts and therefore behaviour. There are many greeting cards and posters with motivational sayings that are now commonly seen framed in offices and homes. While there is no doubt that what you think impacts your experience, there can be challenges with how affirmations are commonly used that impacts their effectiveness.
The choice of words in many affirmations can point to attractive concepts that are nevertheless not supportive. A popular one I’ve seen is Emily Dickinson’s quote “Dwell In Possibility”. Why would you want to do that? Don’t you want to get things done? Possibilities are great to explore, but if you want to take something from the world of possibility and then manifest something, you cannot continue to dwell in possibility.
Additionally, affirmations that use the imperative tense can also have unintended consequences, such as “Forgive” or “Do what you love.” The problem when faced with an ‘order’ like this (the imperative verb tense used here is telling you to do something) is that we often tend to resist commands: no one likes being told what to do, particularly at home… it triggers memories of a parent telling you to do what they think you should do. Additionally, this statement is affirming that we are not already doing this: if you were forgiving people in your life, you wouldn’t need to post a statement telling you to do so. So in fact, this affirmation reminds you that you are not naturally doing what you say you want to do.
I’ll never forget one consultation with a client who had opposite her bed a large banner that read, “Always believe that something wonderful is about to happen.” So she was being told that she needed to believe it (because she didn’t) and the statement stated that something wonderful was about to happen and therefore wasn’t happening now. When I brought this to her attention, she was aghast, as I had articulated her experience: she always felt that she was on the cusp of a breakthrough that never quite came…
So unfortunately affirmations can create the exact opposite from the intended consequences for which they are used. Their linguistic framework means the access point to our consciousness is restricted to mental language, which ties in with our belief system – the source of our limiting concepts. While words can help us over time to make shifts to broader emotional, spiritual, and physical states, they will not necessarily do so.
On the other hand, Feng Shui works by using subliminal affirmations in our surroundings: objects and images that create connections with desired states of being and thoughts. If a picture is worth a thousand words, the associations created from environmental stimuli can go a lot further than even the best-chosen words. Additionally, the colours, forms, and other connections created by these objects can work in subtler ways by bypassing the belief system’s linguistic centre and stimulating an emotional state that is consistent with the spiritual state we are looking to experience. A picture of a relaxing setting could work better than a poster that has words about being calm (we all probably know from experience that telling someone who is not calm to calm down rarely achieves that result!); an image of a person meditating is more powerful than something that says “Turn Inward” or “Trust Yourself.” A skilled Feng Shui consultant knows what kinds of images in what locations can help to stimulate supportive thoughts in specific areas of your life.
If you are going to use artwork that includes words, be mindful of what is being said. Often a single word – ideally referring to a state of being, like “Delight” or “Presence” – can work, but it’s better not to use single-word verbs like “Trust” or “Believe,” as these imply that you are not already doing that. Sentences are best chosen with caution – I prefer quotes that speak to a Truth as opposed to a command, such as a line from a poem or important text (ideally they will feature an image or be attractively written). If it has an image that catches your eye more than the text, it may help you to feel in the moment the state you wish to embody both now and in the future.
May your home speak to you in the layered languages of your experience.
Since my introduction to historical recordings in the mid-1980s, Edwin Fischer has been one of my favourite musicians. The Swiss pianist had famously made the first complete recording of Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier in the 1930s and was known for his interpretations of Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, and Brahms.
Early in my research into the art and recordings of Dinu Lipatti (who had coached briefly with Fischer when the young Romanian arrived in Switzerland in 1943), I was introduced by another researcher (via correspondence) to London-based Roger Smithson, who was researching Fischer recordings. This was back in the day when one wrote actual letters overseas – there was no internet – and we had a very engaging correspondence, with Roger being a great help in introducing me to people and places I might contact in my attempt to locate unpublished Lipatti recordings. We would meet each time I visited London in the early 90s while on Lipatti research visits, and we maintained contact over the years.
Roger has continually been updating his discography of Fischer and recently offered to share his findings publicly. We met again in London in September 2018, along with Fischer’s pupil Gerald Kingsley, who has provided terrific insight to help with Roger’s research, and we discussed having the finished document detailing all of Fischer’s uploaded online – and it is now housed in this post (the link is at the bottom of the page).
Although Fischer made his debut during World War I, his first recording session was as late as May 1928 – when the pianist was 41 – at the Electrola studios in Berlin. However, this session yielded no published discs: that would have to wait until October 1931, a full three years later, at which he recorded this Händel Chaconne in G Major HWV 435. It was the first work put on disc at both of these sessions, and the issued 1931 recording has not been regularly rereleased. Here is, in a magnificent transfer directly from an original Victor pressing (effected by and kindly provided by Tom Jardine), Edwin Fischer’s first commercial recording:
Another wonderful and rarely released Händel recording is the Suite No.3 in D Minor, which captures Fischer’s vitality and robust pianism to perfection:
Fischer is particularly famous for having made the first complete account on records of Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier (read here for more about the first aborted attempt with other pianists). Artur Schnabel was recording the complete Beethoven Piano Sonatas funded by subscriptions to The Beethoven Society (records were produced once sufficient funds for each forthcoming volume had been collected), and a similar process was undertaken for Fischer’s traversal of the WTC. Fischer recorded the cycle at 17 sessions at EMI’s Abbey Road Studios (in addition to one session in Berlin that yielded no usable discs) between 1933 and 1936. The final result was five volumes of records:
Vol. 1 (7 records) Book 1: Preludes and Fugues Nos. 1 to 12
Vol. 2 (7 records) Book 1: Preludes and Fugues Nos.13 to 24
Vol. 3 (7 records) Book 2: Preludes and Fugues Nos. 1 to 10
Vol. 4 (7 records) Book 2: Preludes and Fugues Nos. 11 to 19
Vol. 5 (6 records) Book 2: Preludes and Fugues Nos. 20 to 24
(the final set includes the English Suite No.2 in A Minor played by Wanda Landowska on the harpsichord)
Here is the first of that massive undertaking of ‘The 48’ – although Fischer recorded this first Prelude & Fugue on April 25, 1933 when he began the cycle, all takes of the work made on that day were rejected in favour of this later attempt on September 12, 1933 (again, our thanks to Tom Jardine for his transfer):
While Fischer famously recorded three Bach Concerti from the keyboard in the 1930s (and, as the discography reveals, others that were not released), and his Mozart Concerto recordings are justly celebrated, his 1942 reading of the Haydn Concerto in D Major has received much less airplay: it was only issued twice (never with the parent record company) on LP and has had scant distribution on CD. This magnificent performance finds Fischer playing with great aplomb and vitality:
Roger Smithson’s discography covers not only studio recordings, both released and unreleased (there are some details about unissued studio recordings that are tantalizing indeed), but also all known surviving broadcast recordings. We are fortunate that Fischer lived into the tape era of the 1950s, which led to the existence of concert recordings captured in fine sound. Despite Fischer being of a more advanced age at this time, we can hear him in wonderful form in repertoire he did not otherwise commit to disc. One such glorious performance is his August 9, 1952 Salzburg broadcast of Beethoven’s ‘Archduke’ Trio Op.97, featuring marvellous collaborative playing amongst the three stellar musicians – Wolfgang Schneiderhan, Enrico Mainardi, and Edwin Fischer – making this a worthy contender for a reference recording of the work:
Another fine later performance of a work not in his commercial discography took place a month later: Fischer’s September 23, 1952 Munich account of Beethoven’s Fantasia Op.77, which reveals in wonderful sound his glowing sonority, fluid phrasing, and attentive voicing:
I hope that the availability of Fischer’s discography will invite piano fans to investigate more of this great pianist’s artistry through the many hours of recordings that he left us. Many thanks to Roger Smithson for making his work available to us!
One of the great and perhaps unexpected benefits of the CD era has been the publication of rare historic recordings to an astonishing degree. Recordings that were never released during the LP era have been remastered and issued on CD; it is indeed a collector’s dream to be living at this time when the great performances of the past are more accessible than ever before. Decca’s Eloquence label has been doing a marvellous job with releasing some fine rarities, most recently presenting the complete Decca recordings of an artist who had escaped my attention: the Russian pianist Nikolai Orloff.
In my 30 years of collecting I never came across an LP of this pianist’s recordings (if I saw one, it certainly didn’t capture my attention) and biographical information online is limited to say the least. Fortunately my friend and colleague, the eminent pianophile Jonathan Summers of the British Library Sound Collections, was commissioned to produce the notes for this wonderful new CD. Some of the biographical highlights of this artist:
Born in 1892, Orloff came from a famous Russian family and graduated with the Gold Medal from the Moscow Conservatory in 1910 after studying piano with the legendary Konstantin Igumnov and composition with Taneyev. His first public appearance was the premiere of Glazunov’s First Piano Concerto in 1912, and after some years teaching in Russia he would tour abroad in 1921 with Glazunov himself before settling in Paris the following year. His London debut took place in 1924 while he would first appear in the US on a tour held in late 1926. Some high-profile performances in New York include a ‘Musical Morning’ with Rosa Ponselle and Giovanni Martinelli and a Carnegie Hall recital. He would move to Scotland in 1948, where he died a the age of 72 in 1964.
Orloff did not produce recordings at the height of his career, his first discs being made for Decca starting September 1945 when he was 53 years old. This wonderful reading of Chopin’s First Impromptu – leisurely, elegant, and fluid – was recorded at his first session:
The only large-scale work on the new Eloquence CD of Orloff’s Decca recordings is his 1945 recording of Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No.1, with the National Symphony Orchestra conducted by Anatole Fistoulari. While the microphone placement results in the piano sounding set rather ‘back’, the playing is mesmerizing for a similar reason: Orloff doesn’t push his way to the front as do most pianists, eschewing the more overtly showy aspects of the work with a very musical approach, characterized by lyrical phrasing, more regulated dynamics (there is never a hint of banging), and beautiful tone – an approach not unlike the 1925 acoustical recording by his compatriot Vassily Sapellnikoff, who had played the work with the composer himself. The last movement of the concerto is a fine example of how Orloff’s more sensitive approach can reveal hidden dimensions in frequently-played showpieces:
This is not to suggest that the playing is lacking in excitement: Orloff’s traversal of Chopin’s Etude in C-Sharp Minor Op.10 No.4 featured here, for example, features thrilling fingerwork at a terrific tempo and is played with great gusto. However, moments of abandon are beautifully tempered with deliberate musical choices, such as his ending this vivacious etude with chords that are musically voiced and not played fortissimo:
This wonderful CD clocks in at just over an hour and is an important addition to the discography of great pianists of the world, bringing to light the art of a forgotten artist of the past whose modest and musical approach – and more limited commercial output – has unjustly led to his being less remembered than many of his contemporaries. Between the Tchaikovsky First Concerto and a group of Chopin solos on this disc, we get to hear some very refined and elegant pianism from a long neglected artist.
One of the great and perhaps unexpected benefits of the CD era has been the publication of rare historic recordings to an astonishing degree. Recordings that were never released during the LP era have been remastered and issued on CD; it is indeed a collector’s dream to be living at this time when the great performances of the past are more accessible than ever before. Decca’s Eloquence label has been doing a marvellous job with releasing some fine rarities, most recently presenting the complete Decca recordings of an artist who had escaped my attention: the Russian pianist Nikolai Orloff.
In my 30 years of collecting I never came across an LP of this pianist’s recordings (if I saw one, it certainly didn’t capture my attention) and biographical information online is limited to say the least. Fortunately my friend and colleague, the eminent pianophile Jonathan Summers of the British Library Sound Collections, was commissioned to produce the notes for this wonderful new CD. Some of the biographical highlights of this artist:
Born in 1892, Orloff came from a famous Russian family and graduated with the Gold Medal from the Moscow Conservatory in 1910 after studying piano with the legendary Konstantin Igumnov and composition with Taneyev. His first public appearance was the premiere of Glazunov’s First Piano Concerto in 1912, and after some years teaching in Russia he would tour abroad in 1921 with Glazunov himself before settling in Paris the following year. His London debut took place in 1924 while he would first appear in the US on a tour held in late 1926. Some high-profile performances in New York include a ‘Musical Morning’ with Rosa Ponselle and Giovanni Martinelli and a Carnegie Hall recital. He would move to Scotland in 1948, where he died a the age of 72 in 1964.
Orloff did not produce recordings at the height of his career, his first discs being made for Decca starting September 1945 when he was 53 years old. This wonderful reading of Chopin’s First Impromptu – leisurely, elegant, and fluid – was recorded at his first session:
The only large-scale work on the new Eloquence CD of Orloff’s Decca recordings is his 1945 recording of Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No.1, with the National Symphony Orchestra conducted by Anatole Fistoulari. While the microphone placement results in the piano sounding set rather ‘back’, the playing is mesmerizing for a similar reason: Orloff doesn’t push his way to the front as do most pianists, eschewing the more overtly showy aspects of the work with a very musical approach, characterized by lyrical phrasing, more regulated dynamics (there is never a hint of banging), and beautiful tone – an approach not unlike the 1925 acoustical recording by his compatriot Vassily Sapellnikoff, who had played the work with the composer himself. The last movement of the concerto is a fine example of how Orloff’s more sensitive approach can reveal hidden dimensions in frequently-played showpieces:
This is not to suggest that the playing is lacking in excitement: Orloff’s traversal of Chopin’s Etude in C-Sharp Minor Op.10 No.4 featured here, for example, features thrilling fingerwork at a terrific tempo and is played with great gusto. However, moments of abandon are beautifully tempered with deliberate musical choices, such as his ending this vivacious etude with chords that are musically voiced and not played fortissimo:
This wonderful CD clocks in at just over an hour and is an important addition to the discography of great pianists of the world, bringing to light the art of a forgotten artist of the past whose modest and musical approach – and more limited commercial output – has unjustly led to his being less remembered than many of his contemporaries. Between the Tchaikovsky First Concerto and a group of Chopin solos on this disc, we get to hear some very refined and elegant pianism from a long neglected artist.
One of the great and perhaps unexpected benefits of the CD era has been the publication of rare historic recordings to an astonishing degree. Recordings that were never released during the LP era have been remastered and issued on CD; it is indeed a collector’s dream to be living at this time when the great performances of the past are more accessible than ever before. Decca’s Eloquence label has been doing a marvellous job with releasing some fine rarities, most recently presenting the complete Decca recordings of an artist who had escaped my attention: the Russian pianist Nikolai Orloff.
In my 30 years of collecting I never came across an LP of this pianist’s recordings (if I saw one, it certainly didn’t capture my attention) and biographical information online is limited to say the least. Fortunately my friend and colleague, the eminent pianophile Jonathan Summers of the British Library Sound Collections, was commissioned to produce the notes for this wonderful new CD. Some of the biographical highlights of this artist:
Born in 1892, Orloff came from a famous Russian family and graduated with the Gold Medal from the Moscow Conservatory in 1910 after studying piano with the legendary Konstantin Igumnov and composition with Taneyev. His first public appearance was the premiere of Glazunov’s First Piano Concerto in 1912, and after some years teaching in Russia he would tour abroad in 1921 with Glazunov himself before settling in Paris the following year. His London debut took place in 1924 while he would first appear in the US on a tour held in late 1926. Some high-profile performances in New York include a ‘Musical Morning’ with Rosa Ponselle and Giovanni Martinelli and a Carnegie Hall recital. He would move to Scotland in 1948, where he died a the age of 72 in 1964.
Orloff did not produce recordings at the height of his career, his first discs being made for Decca starting September 1945 when he was 53 years old. This wonderful reading of Chopin’s First Impromptu – leisurely, elegant, and fluid – was recorded at his first session:
The only large-scale work on the new Eloquence CD of Orloff’s Decca recordings is his 1945 recording of Tchaikovsky’s Piano Concerto No.1, with the National Symphony Orchestra conducted by Anatole Fistoulari. While the microphone placement results in the piano sounding set rather ‘back’, the playing is mesmerizing for a similar reason: Orloff doesn’t push his way to the front as do most pianists, eschewing the more overtly showy aspects of the work with a very musical approach, characterized by lyrical phrasing, more regulated dynamics (there is never a hint of banging), and beautiful tone – an approach not unlike the 1925 acoustical recording by his compatriot Vassily Sapellnikoff, who had played the work with the composer himself. The last movement of the concerto is a fine example of how Orloff’s more sensitive approach can reveal hidden dimensions in frequently-played showpieces:
This is not to suggest that the playing is lacking in excitement: Orloff’s traversal of Chopin’s Etude in C-Sharp Minor Op.10 No.4 featured here, for example, features thrilling fingerwork at a terrific tempo and is played with great gusto. However, moments of abandon are beautifully tempered with deliberate musical choices, such as his ending this vivacious etude with chords that are musically voiced and not played fortissimo:
This wonderful CD clocks in at just over an hour and is an important addition to the discography of great pianists of the world, bringing to light the art of a forgotten artist of the past whose modest and musical approach – and more limited commercial output – has unjustly led to his being less remembered than many of his contemporaries. Between the Tchaikovsky First Concerto and a group of Chopin solos on this disc, we get to hear some very refined and elegant pianism from a long neglected artist.
Netflix has done the world a favour by launching their series Tidying Up with Marie Kondo on January 1st, the day that North Americans traditionally focus on embracing new, healthier habits. Kondo’s approach to organizing homes has been a sensation not just in her native Japan but worldwide (her book is for sale in 40 countries and is even available at Costco). However, seeing her in action, observing her clients address the impact that the lack of clarity in their home has had on their frame of mind and their relationships, and seeing how they evolve throughout the process all make her philosophy much more real.
The New York Times has just published an article quoting scientists stating that clutter causes both stress and procrastination – I am not being sarcastic when I say that I am glad to see science supporting common sense, because some of these ideas rarely get fully explored in that way. The whole concept of organizing can stress people out because it requires accountability and responsibility for things that we have grown accustomed to ignoring (this is why moving is considered one of the top three stressors). Additionally, ‘letting go’ feels like a loss.
Kondo’s approach is brilliant because it’s actually about what you keep – and keeping only what brings you joy. By addressing each item and gauging the level of joy it sparks, you can tune into your current attitude towards what you possess to see if you are HAVING it (emotionally, mentally, spiritually) as opposed to simply POSSESSING it (physically).
The work that Kondo does is a significant part of what I do in my Contemporary Feng Shui consulting, where I invite clients to consider what they own, where it is placed, and how it makes them feel. I go a bit further in helping them draw connections to some of the unintended consequences of some of the items and arrangements. If their bookcases are overfull, they clearly enjoy reading and new ideas, but they don’t have the space to easily welcome in new ones, which thereby lessens their desired experience to learn more and expand their thinking. If they want to find a partner but have artwork of single individuals throughout the space, they are unwittingly cultivating a sense of solitude instead of togetherness. The home tells countless stories about our modus operandi and life experience.
What this is all about is having a conscious relationship with everything in your personal space, and clarifying your thoughts and feelings about your possessions invites more of that clarity in your waking experience, both at home and in the world at large. When you make everything accessible and aesthetically appealing, you bring more beauty and joy into even the mundane daily tasks of your life.
I have also enjoyed watching Kondo’s program because I have had a 26-year relationship with Japan, living in Tokyo for five years in the 1990s and traveling there extensively ever since, in particular consulting throughout the country multiple times a year for the last 15 years. Seeing Kondo walk through North American homes with an interpreter is eerily similar to my own experience going through Japanese homes with an interpreter in a foreign land, and the warm welcome and deep gratitude at the changes she ushers in has stimulated my own gratitude at how graciously I’ve been invited to hundreds of homes and businesses in Japan, a country where one traditionally does not invite even close acquaintances into one’s residence, and the significant changes I have witnessed in my clients’ lives.
I hope that Kondo’s Netflix series will encourage more and more people to recognize the reality that your home is not just where you reside: it is a workshop where you incubate and cultivate every dimension of your life.
May your surroundings ever spark joy and wholeness in your being!
Netflix has done the world a favour by launching their series Tidying Up with Marie Kondo on January 1st, the day that North Americans traditionally focus on embracing new, healthier habits. Kondo’s approach to organizing homes has been a sensation not just in her native Japan but worldwide (her book is for sale in 40 countries and is even available at Costco). However, seeing her in action, observing her clients address the impact that the lack of clarity in their home has had on their frame of mind and their relationships, and seeing how they evolve throughout the process all make her philosophy much more real.
The New York Times has just published an article quoting scientists stating that clutter causes both stress and procrastination – I am not being sarcastic when I say that I am glad to see science supporting common sense, because some of these ideas rarely get fully explored in that way. The whole concept of organizing can stress people out because it requires accountability and responsibility for things that we have grown accustomed to ignoring (this is why moving is considered one of the top three stressors). Additionally, ‘letting go’ feels like a loss.
Kondo’s approach is brilliant because it’s actually about what you keep – and keeping only what brings you joy. By addressing each item and gauging the level of joy it sparks, you can tune into your current attitude towards what you possess to see if you are HAVING it (emotionally, mentally, spiritually) as opposed to simply POSSESSING it (physically).
The work that Kondo does is a significant part of what I do in my Contemporary Feng Shui consulting, where I invite clients to consider what they own, where it is placed, and how it makes them feel. I go a bit further in helping them draw connections to some of the unintended consequences of some of the items and arrangements. If their bookcases are overfull, they clearly enjoy reading and new ideas, but they don’t have the space to easily welcome in new ones, which thereby lessens their desired experience to learn more and expand their thinking. If they want to find a partner but have artwork of single individuals throughout the space, they are unwittingly cultivating a sense of solitude instead of togetherness. The home tells countless stories about our modus operandi and life experience.
What this is all about is having a conscious relationship with everything in your personal space, and clarifying your thoughts and feelings about your possessions invites more of that clarity in your waking experience, both at home and in the world at large. When you make everything accessible and aesthetically appealing, you bring more beauty and joy into even the mundane daily tasks of your life.
I have also enjoyed watching Kondo’s program because I have had a 26-year relationship with Japan, living in Tokyo for five years in the 1990s and traveling there extensively ever since, in particular consulting throughout the country multiple times a year for the last 15 years. Seeing Kondo walk through North American homes with an interpreter is eerily similar to my own experience going through Japanese homes with an interpreter in a foreign land, and the warm welcome and deep gratitude at the changes she ushers in has stimulated my own gratitude at how graciously I’ve been invited to hundreds of homes and businesses in Japan, a country where one traditionally does not invite even close acquaintances into one’s residence, and the significant changes I have witnessed in my clients’ lives.
I hope that Kondo’s Netflix series will encourage more and more people to recognize the reality that your home is not just where you reside: it is a workshop where you incubate and cultivate every dimension of your life.
May your surroundings ever spark joy and wholeness in your being!
We are truly living in the most amazing time to be enjoying historical piano recordings: the offerings that are now available were an absolute dream even just a decade or two ago, let alone in the LP era or before. I recall how remarkable it was when CDs were first sold in the 1980s that historical recordings began to be released at an unparalleled rate, and fortunately this trend has continued. And the discoveries that have been made in recent years have been remarkable too. So here, in no particular order, are the mostly ‘historical’ piano recordings made available in 2018 that most struck me.
One of the most incredible releases of the year – and in fact of all time – is Marston’s incredible set devoted to the private recording of Sergei Rachmaninoff playing through his Symphonic Dances at the piano in Eugene Ormandy’s living room in late 1940, a few weeks before the orchestral work’s premiere. I knew that a Rachmaninoff discovery had been made though I was told that I would need to wait for the details, and when Marston approached me to ask if I would produce the promotional video for the set, I was thrilled to learn what had been found – and of course once I heard the playing, I couldn’t have been more amazed. I literally lost sleep for the first two nights that I had the recordings, waking up in the middle of the night to listen again to the stunning playing, unlike anything else we have of the great Rachmaninoff. It has been reported that many who heard him in concert stated that his playing in commercial recordings was different than what they had heard, and this discovery reveals what they are pointing to: soaring phrasing, dynamic and tonal shadings of remarkable refinement, and rhythmic tautness are simply some of the amazing qualities on display… and hearing the composer sing along while he plays is incredibly insightful as well.
Also included in the set is another recording very close to my heart: Benno Moiseiwitsch’s 1946 BBC broadcast of Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. I had first obtained this on cassette in the late 1980s and shared it enthusiastically with my contacts, including Gregor Benko and Bryan Crimp; the latter then sent it to Moiseiwitsch’s daughter, who had never heard it before and said she thought it was her father’s greatest reading of the work, while Benko stated that it could be his favourite recording of anyone playing anything. A few years ago, the performance was released on the Testament label and it turns out that the source for that was a copy of a cassette that could be traced back to me! – but at long last the source material was located, and the performance now sounds as good as one could hope for… and the playing goes well beyond that.
Here is that promotional video that I produced for the set:
Another Marston release included some private recordings that were also somewhat ‘Top Secret’ for quite a while, something I was involved with for a decade leading up to their eventual release: the first of the new iteration of Landmarks of Recorded Pianism included unofficial recordings made by Dinu Lipatti in repertoire he didn’t otherwise record. In 2008 I first learned of a collector in Brooklyn who had these Lipatti discs but we were unable to actually obtain the records until he died a few years later, and unfortunately most of them were unplayable by that time. But what playing the ones we salvaged reveal! As in the Rachmaninoff release, we hear another side of Lipatti’s playing, much bolder and more impetuous than his more reserved and ‘careful’ studio accounts for the British Columbia label. I tell the tale of these discs in this interview with Jed Distler (starting just around the 29-minute mark), and the two Brahms performances that are released can be heard in the program too:
Here is the promotional video I produced for the set, which includes photographs of the discs that show the unfortunate damage they had suffered:
It is not just the Lipatti on this set that makes it worthwhile: one of the other incredible recordings that I find thoroughly remarkable is a performance by one Josef Labor of part of a Beethoven Sonata movement. Labor was born a mere 15 years after Beethoven died, and the blind pianist-composer (who taught Schoenberg and Mahler’s wife Alma) plays in a style that is truly a throwback to another era of pianism and music-making, very different to our current sensibilities but absolutely spellbinding if we truly wish to consider ‘authenticity’ to a composer’s intentions. When playing this to a group of students who were taken aback by the rubato and dislocation of hands, I asked if there was any guarantee that we would like a recording of Beethoven playing should one be found – and if not, if we somehow think that ‘our way’ is better… what does that mean to the art of interpretation? A must-hear set for lovers of fine piano playing!
Marston ends the year with a 7-disc set devoted to the playing of Sidney Foster, a remarkable pianist and teacher whose playing is vividly remembered by those lucky enough to have heard him. Unfortunately he recorded very little and many of his faculty recitals were marred by poor microphone placement or other sonic interference. His pupil Alberto Reyes, a longtime subscriber to and supporter of The Piano Files, has written and spoken eloquently about his great mentor, and played a significant role in this release in addition to writing the marvellous notes accompanying the CDs here, which feature some stupendous playing by the great pianist. You can listen to Reyes and Jed Distler in conversation with some Foster recordings here:
This glorious concert performance of Chopin’s Fourth Ballade, while not note-perfect, is musically and pianistically of stupendous musicality and insight. Sublime pianism and music-making!
I have been involved with the release of Jascha Spivakovsky recordings on the Pristine Classical label (writing the release notes and brainstorming compilation sequencing) and 2018 saw the release of three more CDs in the series. All of these are to my ears extraordinary, so it is hard for me to choose a single one of these releases as being ‘better’ than the other. One reading that does stand out is the Italian Concerto by Bach in Volume 6 of the Bach To Bloch series demonstrates a capacity to terrace lines and present cohesiveness of structure in a manner remarkably similar to that of Dinu Lipatti – and be sure to check out the embedded player in the link to Volume 6 to hear the first movement of a stupendous performance of Schumann’s Piano Sonata No.3.
The APR label has long played an important in releasing historical piano recordings and this year saw a stellar set of issues, from the virtually forgotten Walter Rehberg to overlooked early recordings by the never-forgotten Wilhelm Backhaus. Rehberg is a pianist I only came across via YouTube while operating my Facebook page and it’s incredible that a three-disc set of this artist should now be available – I don’t know that a single LP devoted to his artistry was ever produced. This 1937 recording of Liszt’s Les jeux d’eaux a la Villa d’Este gives an example of the superb musicianship to be heard in this pianist’s readings:
The Russian-born pianist Mark Hambourg recorded a great deal but has not been well represented on LP, and although some CDs of his playing have been produced, they have covered a mere fraction of what he recorded. APR’s two-disc set devoted to Encores and Rarities recorded between 1910 and 1935 features a wide range of repertoire. While some of the playing will be more spontaneous and devil-may-care than modern ears are used to, there is equally astoundingly beautiful and subtle pianism that can leave the listener quite breathless at the sumptuous playing:
Wilhelm Backhaus had a career that covered six decades with the gramophone, from acoustic discs in 1908 to his final live concert in 1969, but many of the German pianist’s earlier performances have been bypassed in favour of later ones, though more ardent pianophiles are aware that it is was he who recorded the first complete account of Chopin Etudes in 1928 (one that was unfortunately almost impossible to find in the LP era). That cycle is presented together with other recordings made between 1925 and 1937 of a wide range of repertoire in APR’s must-have two-disc release that shows the pianist’s true versatility: one fine example is this fiery traversal of Moszkowski’s Caprice Espagnol Op.37, the kind of showpiece that would not be associated with the pianist in the final decades of his career.
Another pianist whose recordings have languished is the Italian pupil of Busoni, Carlo Zecchi, who would later turn to conducting. The pianist’s early recordings feature some truly devil-may-care readings that have long been cherished by collectors in their previous rare LP or CD incarnations. APR’s set includes all of these amazing performances, including a superb Bach Brandenburg Concerto No.5 and some of the most dazzling Liszt you could ever hope to hear (the video below comes from an earlier remastering of the Paganini-Liszt Etude No.4).
A wonderful end-of-year release from Rhine Classics includes two fantastic sets devoted to the Italian pianist Pietro Scarpini. A wonderful pianist not well represented on records, Scarpini was an elusive figure who played with marvellous tonal colours and disarming directness. One six-disc set focuses on works by Busoni and Liszt (including a stupendous Busoni Piano Concerto in glorious sound) while another two-disc set features his Mozart: glowing, sumptuous, forthright playing of two piano concertos and some solo works (the clip below is from an unofficial source with sound that is inferior to the new release):
One release hot off the presses distinguishes itself as the only video in this selection of the year: a filmed concert performance of Beethoven’s sublime Piano Concerto No.4 in G Major by Australian pianist Bruce Hungerford. This is the only known film footage of Hungerford in performance and when the master pianist’s devoted disciple Donald Isler learned of its existence via the Facebook clip shared by Meloclassic below, he negotiated the release of the entire concert on his own label KASP Records. Hungerford’s playing is indeed stupendous and in enjoying the performance I realized that I had only ever heard the artist in solo repertoire. An important addition to the pianist’s discography (as are the live recitals released on the same label) and of great interest to piano fans. This excerpt of the cadenza and end of the first movement is a fine example of the playing on this wonderful DVD:
The Australian pianist Bruce Hungerford (1922-1977) plays the cadenza in the first movement of the Beethoven fourth piano concerto in 1964. He was sadly killed in an automobile accident like few others such as Werner Haas, Ossy Renardy, etc.
Posted by Meloclassic on Tuesday, October 17, 2017
I went through most of the year without having realized that Decca had put on CD the complete Debussy recordings of Dutch pianist-composer Hans Henkemans, whose playing I first encountered in the last decade while scouring YouTube pages searching for clips to share on my Facebook page.(Unfortunately, I also missed the fact that Decca have put out Alicia de Larroccha’s complete recordings for that label – I’ll have to report on those later but I’m sure they’re superb.) Henkemans was tasked with recording the first complete cycle of Debussy piano music for the newly founded Philips label in Holland when the label was founded in 1951, and while some of these performances made it to CD, this is the first time that the complete set is available, and there is indeed some stellar playing here. While there are a few readings that I found less convincing (L’Isle joyeuse, for example), there is a lot to love: the pianist’s luscious tone, with beautifully defined articulation fused with wonderful pedalling, help the relatively forgotten musician forge some fascinating interpretations, and the overall recorded sound is stupendous – well beyond what one might expect from the time.
Another Debussy performer who made it to CD in 2018 (which was the 100th anniversary of the composer’s death) is Marius-François Gaillard, who is heard in Arbiter’s fascinating compilation Debussy’s Traces alongside other neglected pianists (and the composer himself in his only disc recordings, accompanying soprano Mary Garden). Gaillard’s earthy but evocative readings make him a fascinating addition to the pantheon of Debussy interpreters. There is more than one way to play great music and it is fascinating to hear those who were contemporaries of the composer play in a style different to that which has come to be the norm.
While this is not a comprehensive listing of all of the ‘top’ releases of the year, these are among those that I have found very satisfying and which I hope will bring you great pleasure as well.
I’m looking forward to what 2019 will bring… and I can tell you that Lipatti lovers will soon be thrilled by a new presentation of a familiar recording whose release was delayed until early this year. Stay tuned – and happy listening!
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