Maso Mompou

The title of Mompou's masterpiece Música callada comes from the Cántico Espiritual of the Spanish mystic, St John of the Cross, where the expression música callada (music without sound) is complemented by soledad sonora (solitude that clamours). The poet explains 'that music is without sound as far as natural senses and capacities are concerned' but 'solitude sounds out loud through spiritual capacities'. In spite of the apparent clarity of the metaphor, its sense for Mompou was 'difficult enough to explain in a language different from Spanish'. Beyond general understanding of these words, they seem to have a personal significance for the composer, only accessible through his music.

The Catalan composer Frederic Mompou (1893-1987) is hardly a household word (though Segovia performed his guitar pieces), probably because, unlike other Spanish composers of folkloric bent like de Falla, Albeniz and Granados he never wrote for the stage, which can be the ticket to immortality. But working in small forms doesn't make him a lightweight; miniatures don't lack drama or emotional interest – just look at what Chopin, Faurè and Schubert did. This new CD of Mompou's solo piano music joins a relatively select few by Europeans like Laurent Martin, Gustavo Romero, Stephen Hough, Alicia de Laroccha, and there's even one by the composer himself. This outing, by young Spanish pianist Jordi Masó, certainly seems to have captured Mompou's very special poetry.

Vol 1 of Jordi Masó's Mompou cycle was given the warmest of welcomes and Vol 2 is no disappointment, either. Everything is presented with crystalline clarity, and if the manner is unusually robust it's never less than musicianly.
Directions such as énergiquement and très clair (Prélude No 2), the forte climax of Prélude No 6 or the sudden blaze of anger that erupts in Prélude No 7 are arguably more sympathetically conveyed than Mompou's gentler, more characteristic instructions (con lirica espressione in Prélude No 8 or un peu plus calme in the second 'Gitanes' from Suburbis).

In many ways Jordi Masó’s excellent Naxos collection is not upstaged by the competition. Moreover this is to be the first of a continuing series. He gives us the complete Canciónes y danzas (except for No. 13, which is for guitar), plus the engagingly diverse, but at times almost mystical Charmes, and his playing is imbued with gentle poetic feeling. Masó’s pianistic sensibility is never self-aware, always at the service of the composer, and the music’s soft-hued colours are perceptively graduated. The unostentatious innocence of the Scènes d’enfants is beautifully caught. Excellent recording makes this a disc to recommend even if it cost far more than it does.