Music: A Dozen Discs

FAZIL SAY, a pianist, is enjoying a well-promoted career. He’s Turkish-born, in his mid-30s, energetic. He tours around with distinguished musicians such as Maxim Vengerov, the violinist. And he makes records-or CDs, if you must-which is not all that common these days. His latest is of Mozart concertos, three of them, No. 12 in A major (“the little A major”), No. 21 in C major, and No. 23 in A major (the not-little Amajor). Playing with him is the Zurich Chamber Orchestra, conducted by Howard Griffiths; the label is NaïveI’m not insulting it, just providing its name. Say has been affected by the “period” movement, sounding at times almost like a fortepianist. He is crisp, sprightly, clean-sometimes clipped, which is not so good. His tone can be brittle, or metallic. And middle movements might have more bloom. Occasionally he sounds like he’s trying to be a good boy-stylistically correct-when he should let himself be musical. But he’s a worthy pianist, stating a case. What’s more, Say is a composer, writing a variety of works. This is all too lacking in musicians today. The performer/composer split is all too great. Hurrah for Fazil Say.

Two pianists have recently recorded Beethoven’s Sonata in A major, Op. 101, one of that composer’s most sublime works. Anton Kuerti pairs it with the “Hammerklavier” Sonata, on the Analekta label. This pianist was born in Austria, but he grew up in the U.S., and has spent the bulk of his career in Canada. He has a fine mind, though we may have reservations. His Op. 101 is peculiar. The wonderful, F-major march is weirdly light-and if Fazil Say is clipped, Kuerti is ultra-clipped. And the gnarly, imposing fugue of Op. 101? Slow and gentle. Kindly, you could say that Kuerti’s approach is “introspective” and “poetic.” In truth, it is wrongly tepid, bordering on defeatist. Murray Perahia, however, has made a magnificent recording of this sonata (on Sony). He plays like the Perahia of old, which is to say with penetration and refinement. He is also a conductor these days, and Op. 101 is preceded by Beethoven’s String Quartet No. 12 in E flat, Op. 127, arranged for string orchestra. The ensemble is the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. That is a commendable performance, too.

About the Author

Jay Nordlinger

Jay Nordlinger was a senior editor of National Review and a book fellow at National Review Institute.

Featured Tags

Manage following

Music

FAZIL SAY, a pianist, is enjoying a well-promoted career. He’s Turkish-born, in his mid-30s, energetic. He tours around with distinguished musicians such as Maxim Vengerov, the violinist. And he makes records-or CDs, if you must-which is not all that common these days. His latest is of Mozart concertos, three of them, No. 12 in A major (“the little A major”), No. 21 in C major, and No. 23 in A major (the not-little Amajor). Playing with him is the Zurich Chamber Orchestra, conducted by Howard Griffiths; the label is NaïveI’m not insulting it, just providing its name. Say has been affected by the “period” movement, sounding at times almost like a fortepianist. He is crisp, sprightly, clean-sometimes clipped, which is not so good. His tone can be brittle, or metallic. And middle movements might have more bloom. Occasionally he sounds like he’s trying to be a good boy-stylistically correct-when he should let himself be musical. But he’s a worthy pianist, stating a case. What’s more, Say is a composer, writing a variety of works. This is all too lacking in musicians today. The performer/composer split is all too great. Hurrah for Fazil Say.

Two pianists have recently recorded Beethoven’s Sonata in A major, Op. 101, one of that composer’s most sublime works. Anton Kuerti pairs it with the “Hammerklavier” Sonata, on the Analekta label. This pianist was born in Austria, but he grew up in the U.S., and has spent the bulk of his career in Canada. He has a fine mind, though we may have reservations. His Op. 101 is peculiar. The wonderful, F-major march is weirdly light-and if Fazil Say is clipped, Kuerti is ultra-clipped. And the gnarly, imposing fugue of Op. 101? Slow and gentle. Kindly, you could say that Kuerti’s approach is “introspective” and “poetic.” In truth, it is wrongly tepid, bordering on defeatist. Murray Perahia, however, has made a magnificent recording of this sonata (on Sony). He plays like the Perahia of old, which is to say with penetration and refinement. He is also a conductor these days, and Op. 101 is preceded by Beethoven’s String Quartet No. 12 in E flat, Op. 127, arranged for string orchestra. The ensemble is the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. That is a commendable performance, too.