Debussy Kocsis

If anybody is, then Zoltán Kocsis is truly a musical artist in the Renaissance sense: he explores ever greater areas of his profession, and takes possession of new realms. Initially, we looked on with incomprehension, asking why as a pianist of genius, he did not devote himself exclusively to his instrument. Why was he dissipating his creative energies is so many fields: teaching, conducting, writing essays, creating concert programs, forming societies and building an orchestra – and of course, there was his composition as well. But these days, we really have to acknowledge that with Kocsis, this is not some sporting achievement, but utilising the Wagnerian term – a kind of “Gesamtkunstwerk” activity.

There's all sorts of beauty. There's Mozart's beauty and Bach's beauty and there's Debussy's beauty and Bartók's beauty. But Mozart's beauty is not Bach's beauty and Debussy's beauty is not Bartók's music. So while one can admire the hard beauty of Zoltan Kocsis' 1988 recording of Debussy's recording, it is impossible to approve of it. Kocsis' playing is beyond reproach: whatever is on the page comes out of the piano, every nuanced dynamic, every glancing grace note, every subtle rhythm. But his clarity is cold and his lucidity is cruel. Reflects dans l'eau is frozen into crystal. Cloches à travers les feuilles rings clangorously. Poissons d'or glints but does not gleam. Reverie is sleep with no rest and the Berceuse héroïque is a last post over a dead fort in the desert. It is all very beautiful, but it is all an awful beauty. Philips' early digital piano sound is clean, dry, and efficient.

Decca presents the Complete Philips Recordings of Zoltán Kocsis on 26 CDs with the original jackets. Bringing together Kocsis' benchmark recordings of Bartók's solo piano works, acclaimed recordings of Bach's Art of Fugue, Chopin, Debussy and Dohnányi; Liszt, Rachmaninoff, and Bartók concertos; a disc of piano transcriptions by Liszt and Kocsis of Wagner; and the first CD release of Greig's Sonata in E minor.

Three 20th-century orchestral scores, Bartók’s Two Pictures, Debussy’s Jeux and Stravinsky’s The Rite of Spring, all dating from 1910-13 and all linked (as the detailed CD booklet explains), are brought to life in the hands of two exceptional French pianists. The central interest is the ballet Jeux. One of the world’s outstanding Debussy interpreters, Jean-Efflam Bavouzet has added to his complete Chandos recordings with his own transcription for two pianos. Written late in Debussy’s life for Nijinsky, Jeux involves an emotionally erotic and harmonically daring game of tennis. Bavouzet and his well-matched partner, François-Fréderic Guy, play with nimble grace, capturing the works wit and mystery. This gripping album is dedicated to Pierre Boulez, guru and enabler, for his 90th birthday.

Unlike Universal’s only fitfully excellent Ravel box, this Debussy Edition of the almost complete works has no weak spots. Puzzlingly, the Saxophone Rhapsody is missing, and so are L’Enfant prodigue (except for one aria) and La Damoiselle élue, among other items, but all of the other significant works are included, and in very fine performances.

Even in a catalog crowded with world-class Debussy Préludes Book II cycles, Michael Lewin has a lot to offer. The intricate fingerwork in Nos. 1, 4, 8, 11 and 12 combine muted hues and blueprint clarity, while sustained neutral tones create haunting long lines throughout Nos. 2 and 10. The disc opens with pianist/transcriber Koji Attwood’s beautiful reworking of the song “Beau Soir,” followed by myriad short works. Although Lewin’s cut and dried Valse romantique and La Plus que lente may lack charm and sentiment to certain ears, L’isle joyeux and Etude pour les octaves release their pent-up tension to impressive effect.