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Martin Jones and Adrian Farmer: French Music for Two Pianos: Hahn, Koechlin, Tailleferre French Music for Two Pianos is distinguished by the piano duo artistry of Martin Jones and Adrian Farmer, but the two deserve as much credit for their inspired curatorial choices. In presenting beguiling works by Charles Koechlin (1867-1950), Reynaldo Hahn (1874-1947), and Germaine Tailleferre (1892-1983), they remind us that there is considerably more to French piano music than Debussy, Ravel, and Fauré. The double-CD set offers both an instructive lesson in music history and 150 minutes of genuine listening pleasure. Jones and Farmer are eminently qualified to take on the project. Since coming to international attention in 1968, Jones has made more than ninety recordings with Nimbus Records, including the complete works of eighteen composers. Farmer is a sought-after accompanist who's recorded with a number of Nimbus artists, among them bass-baritone Shura Gehrman, soprano Charlotte de Rothschild, and pianists Nina Walker, Simon Callaghan, and, of course, Jones. Two well-received volumes of music by Saint-Saëns preceded this latest release by the duo. David Jones' liner notes provide illuminating background to the works and succinct overviews of the composers' styles. He writes of Hahn, for example, that “there is a perfumed grace and refinement about much of his music, a simplicity, and a total avoidance of the overt emotionalism that was characteristic of the German music of the time and that some French composers … adopted.” Like Hahn, Koechlin was prolific and cast a wide net, stylistically speaking. His compositional output encompasses songs and piano, chamber, and orchestral music, including a number of works based on Kipling's Jungle Book. Koechlin, who studied with Fauré at the Paris Conservatoire, taught students too, among them Cole Porter, Francis Poulenc, and Tailleferre. Presented by the piano duo chronologically, the eight selections by her range from the early Jeux de Plein Air (1917) to the Choral et Variations (1979). That her composing career spanned seven decades suggests there is a great deal of her material waiting to be assessed and appreciated. Hahn's represented by three works, the second of which, the twelve-part Le ruban dénoué (1915) is, at thirty-eight minutes, the most substantial. Leading in to it, however, is Caprice mélancolique pour deux pianos (1897), which immediately captivates for the gracefulness and poise of the writing as well as the sensitivity with which the pianists render it. One hears throughout the five-minute scene-setter and in the pieces that follow each pianist attending carefully to the other, embroidering their lines with care, and synchronizing thoughtfully considered modulations of dynamics and tempo. Decades later the source of inspiration for a painting by American artist Paul Cadmus (1904-99), Le ruban dénoué entices as a suite of waltzes that Hahn apparently wrote to “stave off boredom.” There's nothing dull about the material, however, which seduces the moment “Decrets indolents du hazard” introduces it with an air of sensuous languour and “Les soirs d'Albi” follows it with lively dance gestures. Whereas “Le demi-sommeil embaumé” entrances for being aromatic and dreamy, “Soir d'orage,”“Il sorriso,” and “Le seul amour” engage for their respective melancholy, elegance, and delicacy. Whether delivered fast or slow, the lilting rhythms that flow through each part enhance the music's considerable appeal, but Hahn's melodies and the scope of the material prove as pivotal to its impact. His third piece, Pour bercer un convalescent, was composed in 1915 for Henri Bardac, a sergeant in the 306th Infantry who was seriously wounded at the Battle of Aisne. Three short movements comprise the five-minute work, each part exuding a similar degree of charm, rhythmic allure, and appealing simplicity of expression. Like Hahn, Koechlin's represented by three pieces, even if one of them, 1919's Sonatines Françaises Op. 60, comprises four multi-part Sonatines. First up is Suite pour deux pianos Op. 6 (1896), whose gentle “Andantino” instantly endears for its lyrical grace and folk-like melodies. The prettier side of Koechlin's music comes to the fore in the “Andantino con moto”; the pianists' patterns chime sweetly throughout “Andantino con moto quasi allegro” and “Andantino quasi allegretto (Poco scherzando).” Two of the pieces, Suite pour piano Op. 19 (1901) and Sonatines Françaises, were recorded using two pianos rather than as a piano duet, Jones and Farmer feeling that the writing lent itself better to this different approach by eliminating any possibility of clashing fingers. In its opening movements, the 1901 suite calls J. S. Bach to mind in its graceful counterpoint; the spirited third and fifth movements, on the other hand, are marked by vigour and an almost childlike playfulness. At a half-hour, Sonatines Françaises is as substantial a work as Le ruban dénoué and as wide-ranging. Koechlin's moves from the relative tranquility and entwining lines of the radiant Sonatine No. 1 and eloquent, at times hymnal beauty of the second to the romantic prettiness of the third and the understated charm of the fourth. Tailleferre's works are perfectly tailored for a project of Jones and Farmer's type as she often wrote her scores in a two-piano format before creating more elaborate arrangements for other contexts. Her Jeux de Plein Air (1917), which supposedly prompted Satie to deem her his ‘musical daughter,' opens with an almost gamelan-styled propulsion in “La Tirelitentaine” before capping it with acrobatic flourishes and charging pulses in “Cache-cache mitoula.” Whereas 1918's Image is alternately contemplative and adventurous, 1920's Fandango and 1928's Deux Valses tickle the ear with exuberant dance rhythms and bright melodies (see the Gershwin-like “Valse brillante,” for example). Almost two decades pass until Intermezzo (1946) materializes, but the passage of time shows no lessening of spring in its effervescent step. Arriving twenty-three years later, the final work, Choral et Variations, bookends seven delightful variations with a wistful, Ravel-esque “Prologue” (Le tombeau de Couperin hovering faintly in the background) and grandiose “Épilogue.” There's an enormous amount of material to digest on the release, but the investment of time and attention is rewarded. The pianists deliver the pieces with immense feeling and technical finesse, their affection for the composers' material and their connection to it evident at every moment. Hahn, Koechlin, and Tailleferre couldn't have asked, it seems, for a better piano duo to speak on their behalf than Jones and Farmer.June 2023 |