Angela+hewitt

Even though Angela Hewitt's repertoire is quite extensive and diverse, encompassing the Baroque, Classical, Romantic, and modern eras, her true specialty is the music of J.S. Bach, which she has recorded almost exclusively for Hyperion since the 1980s. With this recording of The Art of Fugue, Hewitt completes her long-running series of piano renditions of the solo keyboard works, and while not everyone is convinced that Bach composed this study of fugal techniques for the keyboard, Hewitt's performance is credible and satisfying. She controls the often unwieldy counterpoint by regarding the lines as if they were vocal parts, and her phrases are shaped by natural breathing points, as well as the different emotional qualities she brings to each fugue and canon. The Art of Fugue can be daunting for both performer and listener because its persistent tonality of D minor and monothematic material can be quite tedious in the wrong hands.

Rameau on the piano? It's not altogether unheard of – there were a handful of classic recordings made by Robert Casadesus back in 1952 – but, despite many recordings of Bach, Handel, and Scarlatti on the piano in the digital age, there's been precious little Rameau on the piano until this Angela Hewitt recording of three complete suites from 2006. By choosing the Suite in E minor from the Pièces de clavecin of 1731 plus the Suites in G minor and A minor from Nouvelles suites de pièces de clavecin, Hewitt has for the most part stayed away from the more evocatively titled works and stuck to the standard stylized Baroque dance forms of the allemande, courante, and gigue. Justly celebrated for her cool and clean Bach recordings, this strategy works well for Hewitt. Without seeming to resort to the sustain or the mute pedal, she floats Rameau's lines and melodies, and without seeming to exaggerate the accents or dynamics, she gives Rameau's rhythms a wonderful sense of lift. In the deliberately evocative movements from the G minor Suite – "La poule," "Les sauvages," and especially "L'egiptienne" – Hewitt seems to bring less to the music – her interpretations are remarkably straight – and to get less out of it – her performances are remarkably bland.

As one of the world's foremost interpreters of Baroque keyboard music on the modern piano, Angela Hewitt has established a fine reputation for impeccable playing and fresh musical insights. Listeners who cherish her award-winning recordings on Hyperion of the music of Johann Sebastian Bach have already experienced her exquisite playing, and they will be delighted to hear this selection of sonatas by Domenico Scarlatti, Bach's contemporary and an innovator whose compositions influenced the development of the Classical sonata. Some of these selections are well known, particularly the Sonata in C major, Kk159, the Sonata in D major, Kk96, and the Sonata in E major, Kk380, which are often anthologized, though Hewitt hasn't packed this disc with greatest hits (with 555 sonatas to choose from, there are many less familiar that deserve attention). Hewitt's performances are thoughtfully phrased, polished in tone, and rhythmically precise with a modicum of rubato, and she is alert to the subtleties that make this music so beguiling. Hewitt recorded these 16 sonatas in the Beethovensaal in Hannover, where she made her first Bach recordings for Hyperion 20 years previously, and the acoustics are nearly ideal for her style.

Emmanuel Chabrier's piano music has everything going for it: charm, wit, imagination, unexpected harmonic twists, and more than a few technical challenges. So why do pianists habitually ignore it? Hopefully Angela Hewitt's freshly minted, sharply honed interpretations will inspire recitalists to dust off these unsung treasures. Her keen ear for detail always arises from the music's character and never draws attention to itself. The Schumann-esque Ronde champêtre boasts remarkable rhythmic spring, while Bourrée fantasque's busy contrapuntal lines resonate with the clarity of Hewitt's best Bach playing, yet without sacrificing one iota of scintillation. There have been lighter, crisper renditions of the (relatively) well-known Scherzo-valse, but Hewitt's telling left-hand inflections keep things airborne. In fact, the nine other Pièces pittoresques benefit from Hewitt's ability to give each one its own timbral voice. On paper, for example, Mauresque's steady accompanimental chords don't look like anything special. However, in Hewitt's hands they come to animated life.

For many listeners, the keyboard works of Gabriel Fauré epitomize French music of the fin de siècle, typically because its languorous melodies and subtle harmonies are at times evocative of late Romantic parlor music. Yet Angela Hewitt defends Fauré's piano music from such a superficial judgment, demonstrating that it is much more substantial in content than the conventional piano pieces of the time, and that the difficulties one encounters in his music are akin to the complexities in Bach. Hewitt's polished performances of the Thème et variations, two Valses-caprices, three Nocturnes, and the Ballade are proof of her longtime commitment to this music, and her penetrating insights into Fauré's expressions and technical artistry reveal levels of inventiveness that are often missed in less competent performances. Of course, having played Fauré for most of her life, Hewitt has intimate knowledge of the music, and her sensitivity and control communicate precisely the effects she wishes, so the music never seems sloppily sentimental or vaguely sketched.

Angela Hewitt’s new album is clearly destined to become a favourite. Some of the best-known musical declarations of love across the centuries, heard in transcriptions by some of the great pianists (including Angela herself); this is simply exquisite and not to be missed.

One of the pleasant surprises of the first decade of the twenty first century was the way pianist Angela Hewitt developed from one of the most celebrated of Bach specialists into an all-around first-class performer in a much wider range of repertoire. Take her 2007 disc with Schumann's Humoreske with his Piano Sonata No.1 in F sharp minor. While one might have expected clarity and drive from Hewitt, who had long mastered those qualities in Bach, the evident passion and fantasy reveal new aspects of her playing, especially in her F sharp minor Sonata, which sounds like an ardent musical bildungsroman. Her Humoreske, similarly, has the poetic imagination and the lyrical fervor characteristic of great German romantic poetry. As on her Bach recordings, Hewitt's tone is pearly, her technique formidable, and her interpretations combine thoughtfulness with spontaneity. Recorded by Hyperion with winning warmth and an uncanny sense of immediacy, this disc will delight Hewitt's fans and enlarge Schumann's discography by one excellent disc.

Angela Hewitt has applied the same intense study to Chopin's Nocturnes and Impromptus as she does to any composer's keyboard works. The result is a set of pieces lovingly played and appreciated, with personally felt emotion. The most outwardly emotional displays, as in the Nocturnes, Op. 15, are never wildly loud and always return to an introverted state afterward. In the Nocturnes she uses little touches of rubato so frequently as to almost stretch the melodies out of shape, as in Op. 9/1, but she plays many of the Nocturnes a tick faster than other pianists so that they stand up to that kind of manipulation better, and she never slows down to fit in ornaments. Her ornaments always fit right into the melody, both in her timing and her phrasing, and are feathery soft.