Here is the long-awaited conclusion of the complete Prokofiev piano sonatas by David Jalbert. Expected because the two previous volumes gave us some very beautiful moments of music.
READ MY REVIEW OF VOLUME 1 OF PROKOFIEV’S SONATAS
READ MY REVIEW OF VOLUME 2 OF PROKOFIEV’S SONATAS
The coupling is necessarily limping given the radically different nature of Prokofiev’s last two sonatas: the Eighth, powerful and tragic, and the Ninth, ironic and even light. No. 8 in B-flat major, Op. 84 is the last of the “three war sonatas” (after the sixth and seventh) and is woven from dense and powerful material, streaked with complex lines and fleshy emotions. No wonder, when you know that the end of the Second World War was the historical backdrop. The remarkable Andante, which serves as the first movement, receives meticulous attention from David Jalbert, who manages to introduce unexpected swirls of luminosity through the charcoal shadows of Prokofiev’s writing. Jalbert respectfully softens the second movement (andante sognando) before launching into a nervous and athletic execution of the final Vivace. Note the pianist’s excellent mastery of the technical difficulties of this formidable writing, and the crystalline clarity of his instrumental narration. There would have been room for a bit more muscle in the hammered episodes, but all in all, this is a convincing interpretation.
The Sonata No. 9 in C major, Op. 103, can be surprising at first glance. Its dedicatee, the pianist Sviatoslav Richter, had initially declined the idea of premiering it, saying that it appeared “simple” to him. Prokofiev himself had warned the pianist in these terms: This will be your sonata… but don’t expect a work with effects. This is not intended to hit the grand hall of the Conservatory…
But like any mature work by a very great composer, the treasures are fully present, albeit more carefully hidden. So, you have to dig deeper and come back to it more than once to feel all the possibilities it offers music lovers. This is what happened to Richter, who ended up recognizing its promises and appreciating all its genius, later describing it as a radiant, simple and intimate work.
It seems that Jalbert perfectly captures the contradictory spirit of this pianistic testament, namely an exterior made of lightness and a dasein (as in Heidegger’s philosophical concept of self) that explores the intimacy of being, that of the composer but also that of the interpreter, at an extremely fine level.
The album concludes with the five Sarcasms, op. 17. These miniatures, carved with a mocking, sometimes playful character, allow Jalbert to frolic robustly and impress us all the more because it seems like he’s playing with an almost diabolical grin on his lips.
Excellent.
