Album Review: Sviatoslav Richter- The Lost Tapes: Beethoven: Sonatas Nos. 18, 27, 28 & 31

The nice folks from Supplemental Sound may have thought I was kidding when I told them last month that solo piano has become my music of choice. Subjected to an iffy neo-soul performance on a nearby stage at a disappointing festival, I meant what I was saying at that moment.

Taking in more than a dozen transcendent recitals by elite pianists in recent years expanded my ears. No less importantly, reading Bruno Monsaingeon’s Sviatoslav Richter: Notebooks and Conversations in 2023 personalized the music for me. (The book is a companion to a far less interesting documentary.)

Deutsche Grammophon added seventy-two minutes to the late Russian pianist’s unfathomably massive discography last month.The Lost Tapes: Beethoven: Sonatas Nos. 18, 27, 28 & 31 consists of previously unreleased recordings from two 1965 concerts in Europe.

These performances aren’t referenced in Notebooks and Conversations, but the notoriously prickly Richter might have made self-lacerating comments about his efforts. What did he know? Richter’s bold translations of Beethoven are precisely what I need to hear right now.

"I Hate Jazz"

Original image by There Stands the Glass.

A nurse asked an anesthetist about her trip to New Orleans as I lay in a hospital bed with a tube in my nose and an IV in my arm last week.

“How was Jazz Fest?”
“We had so much fun!”
“Did you listen to a lot of jazz?”
“No. I hate jazz!”
“I hate jazz too!”

My heart broke as the coworkers bonded over their mutual loathing of music I love. Knowing we were within shouting distance of the site of Charlie Parker’s elementary school made me wish I was slated to receive morphine rather than propofol during my minor medical procedure.

I chatted with the otherwise charming anesthetist about the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival upon awakening. Her favorite band was billed in the topline of this year’s event. Allowing myself to be upset about the commonplace dismissal of an entire genre would be hypocritical.

Until recently, I’d been indifferent to The Modern Jazz Quartet. Hearing The John Lewis Piano for the first time in April lifted the veil. The music by Martha Argerich, Sviatoslav Richter and András Schiff I’ve mainlined in the past couple years allow me to finally appreciate the classical inclinations of MJQ leader John Lewis.

An approach that previously struck me as precious now seems wonderfully weird on the 1958 recording. The awkward title and dodgy sound correspond with the outlandishly unconventional chamber jazz featuring members of MJQ and an aggressive cricket. My new favorite band is 73 years old.

Album Review: James McVinnie- Dreamcatcher

I occasionally use archival Sviatoslav Richter recordings as references to evaluate the interpretations of the classical pianists of today. In addition to admiring Richter’s no-nonsense approach, I’m morbidly intrigued by the ill-timed coughing and squeaking of chairs of sickly and uncomfortable Russians through the muffled audio of the Soviet-era documents. Dreamcatcher, the new solo album by keyboardist James McVinnie, comes from a universe Richter almost certainly couldn’t have imagined. In addition to the transgressive piano and organ works of living composers including Meredith Monk and Nico Muhly, Dreamcatcher is notable for excruciatingly intense sound fields that are damaging to both my playback mechanisms and my mind. When I wrote about my recent fixation on the sounds of organs last month, I had no idea I’d soon find it necessary to wrap my head around landscapes like this. It’s entirely possible I’ll come to reject these inside-the-instrument recordings, but until then, I can’t stop listening.