GG: Perahia and Zhu

[Bradley P Lehman <bpl@UMICH.EDU>]

Cristalle Watson wrote (after my assessment of Perahia's Goldbergs):

>Sorry, but I really have to disagree with you on this one. Listening to
>Perahia play the Goldbergs was like hearing them for the first time over
>again. He brought so much insight, clarity, and above all lyricism to the
>music that I found his recording utterly astounding.
>
>You say "middle of the road." Okay, so Perahia doesn't do zany, highly
>individualistic things to the Goldbergs that are of questionable musical
>taste, like many other performers do. He doesn't sound like he's had one
>(or maybe more like ten) too many cups of coffee and is now on a major
>high, like Gould's 1955 recording sounds like. He doesn't sound like he's
>entered a deep meditative trance and is now trying to commune with Bach's
>spirit, and in doing so playing the music as slowly as he can, like
>Rosalyn Tureck sounds like in her recording. If you see the fact that he
>doesn't do these things as "boring," well I guess you are entitled to
>your opinion, but seriously, would Bach have genuinely appreciated those
>two recordings of the Goldbergs? I think not.
>
>Perahia's approach is, above all, lyrical. He brings years of training as
>a classicist/romanticist to a piece that is very much a baroque creation.
>Some people would object to this. I take the opposite approach: I tend to
>like the Bach pianists who have had lots of experience in other areas
>more than those who just specialize in Bach. The latter type, like Glenn
>Gould, unfortunately often sound like they're trying to dissect the music
>rather than say anything with it (or worse, sound utterly monotone and
>bored with the whole thing.) Don't get me wrong: I like Glenn Gould's
>Bach, and his later recording of the Goldbergs. I even occasionally like
>to listen to the 1955 recording, when I feel like listening to a
>fireworks display of pure virtuosity. But in terms of musicality, I think
>Perahia's recording is far above Gould's.
>
>Why do I love Perahia's recording? It sounds pleasing to the ear,
>lyrical, unlike many other recordings. It sounds relaxed but still
>intense. It isn't played so fast that you feel like you're on a roller
>coaster, but not so slow that you wish you could just yell at the pianist
>to hurry up! Also, Perahia has a great ear for counterpoint and an
>incredible ability to sustain several lines at once, and this definitely
>comes through in the recording. And finally, Perahia really sounds like
>he's having fun playing the piece!

Cristalle, I agree with everything you've said here about the Perahia
recording.  It *is* one to love for all the reasons you mention.  I
listened to it again last night, followed by listening again to Zhu
Xiao-Mei.  Dare I share my newest perceptions of these two?

Here goes.

Perahia's playing is indeed gorgeous, pleasing, lyrical.  Everything is
well thought-out and delivered impeccably.  He is obviously one of the
best living pianists, no question.  He is intelligent about detail and
about the big picture.  Everything is balanced beautifully.  And his
booklet notes confirm that he is concerned with structure, as is also
evident in the playing.  This is an outstanding CD, compared against
anything or standing on its own.

So, what's wrong with that?  Nothing, really.  But as I was saying in my
other posting just now, an approach with too much rationality (like
Perahia's!) is for me a dead end.  A lovely one, to be sure, but lacking.
Its sheer perfection is astonishing, yes.  And that is simultaneously its
[very minor!] downfall.  The way I hear it, the familiar features of the
music are the background, we know what's coming next (having heard this
piece on piano hundreds of times before, in various performances), no
surprises; and Perahia's phenomenal level of preparation is the
foreground.  It sounds to me like an end in itself, that preparation.  He
lays all the notes and phrases out there perfectly, like a platonic ideal.
Everything is right where we expect it, like reading the score.  The
foreground is how wonderful Perahia is, in service of this wonderful
music, engaging it with an astounding level of thoroughness.

And then we come to Zhu.  The difference, for me, is subtle but crucial.
Her preparation is no less thorough, her pianistic gifts no less complete.
She doesn't do anything zany or eccentric either.  Her tone is just as
gorgeous.  She, like Perahia, draws attention selflessly to the music
rather than to the performer's own personality.  And, incredibly, she goes
beyond Perahia's perfection.  (That probably doesn't seem possible, until
you've heard both performances side by side.)  The perfect preparation is
*not* the end in itself, it's merely the background.  The foreground is
spontaneously flowing music, as if she's making it up on the spot, even
after one has heard the work hundreds of times and this particular
performance dozens of times.  In her hands, the music always surprises and
delights, and can't be fully predicted even on repeated listening.  It's
an amazing balance.  The "right" thing (in my opinion) is in the
foreground here.  It's play.  It's as if she could have gone any any
number of directions at any given moment, according to her feelings; the
flow is terrific, with every moment influenced by all that have gone
before.  The moods surge and relax, and just when we thought we had things
figured out, she shows us something different (and equally natural).
We're not at the mercy of anyone's feelings, Zhu's or our own, but she
projects the sense that music is about more than intellect and structure.
The music sings with a life of its own, breathing and moving under its own
power.

Perahia is wonderful, yes, but he is "second best" to this: he doesn't
sound spontaneous enough.  I notice new things about the *music* every
time I listen to Zhu; I've listened to Perahia fewer times and he doesn't
show me anything I didn't already know.  Music is about more than careful
preparation.  I already knew that the Goldberg Variations are an amazing
structure, and I already knew that Perahia is a consummate pianist.  It's
not especially interesting to hear that again; I already know it's there.

And, incidentally, I'd say Zhu sounds *more* lyrical than Perahia, if that
is even possible.  She's "lyrical" in the sense of making the music sound
as if it had words: and words cause a singer to inflect the notes in ways
an instrumentalist doesn't.  Words imply a meaning of something
extra-musical.  I don't know what words Zhu is imagining (and I don't know
much Chinese, in any case!), if any, but her surges and relaxations of
emotion sound like they're geared to some level of meaning that isn't on
the printed page.  That's lyrical, for me.  Perahia is content with
beautiful tone and perfectly balanced *instrumental* phrases.  It's a less
rich landscape, gorgeous but more limited.

(If it matters: I'm coming to this from about 25 years of hearing this
piece played on piano in various recordings, plus from the "inside" of
performing it myself in concert, on harpsichord.  If I want to "hear" a
platonic piano performance of it, I don't even need to put on Perahia's CD
at all, I can just look at the score and imagine everything from start to
finish.  All the facts are in there, all details and structures perfectly
balanced.  That's nice, but when I listen to a CD I want more out of life
than a mental platonic performance; I want to hear things I didn't already
know.  That's what I find in Zhu, and don't find in Perahia.  As wonderful
as Perahia is, he doesn't very often point my attention toward things I
hadn't already noticed years ago.  At this point, 25 years into knowing
piano versions of this piece, I find Zhu and the live 1959 Salzburg Gould
the two that continue to delight and move me most.  Perahia is better than
most or all of the others; he suffers *only* by comparison here!  Among
CDs of Goldbergs-on-piano, Perahia's is justifiably a mountaintop
achievement, worthy of all praise.  I'm suggesting that there are higher
mountains yet!)

Let me try to say things in a different way.  Let's take a mental holiday.

You have 75 minutes to relax, and you're in a city.  You sprawl
comfortably on a sofa, the world is rock-solid, things are quiet enough,
and the Goldberg Variations begin.  For the next 75 minutes the music goes
along beautifully, everything in place, all perfectly prepared.  The
experience is lovely while it's happening, and your memory of it afterward
is also positive.  All very, very nice.  In the stillness of this
contemplation you've had a nice listen through the Goldberg Variations.
That's Perahia's performance.

Now start again.  This time you're not in the city.  You're in a smallish
boat in the middle of a placid and beautiful lake.  You sprawl
comfortably, things are quiet enough, and the Goldberg Variations begin.
The music goes along beautifully, all perfectly prepared, all is lovely
both during the experience and afterward.  But you've noticed a LOT more
all the way along.  The music has been just as relaxing and perfect as in
Perahia's performance, but your attention has been more directly engaged
in the process.  Why should this be?  Well, your boat (and therefore also
your body) have been bobbing gently in response to all the inevitable,
irrational, unpredictable motions of water.  You yourself have been in
constant motion, under natural forces.  And your perspective to the music
has therefore been shifting every minute or every few seconds, showing you
a slightly different view on the Goldberg Variations than you would expect
on solid dry land.  And the work reveals itself with more dimensions than
you knew were in there; it's not merely perfect.  It has some beautiful
irrationality of its own, the moments flow into one another just like the
rise and fall of your boat, always in motion.  The listener moves.  Your
world has been just as calm, in its own way, as the comfy sofa world on
land, but you're feeling more effects of natural forces beyond anyone's
control.  And your listening is richer for it.  That's Zhu's performance.
It's amazing.

Listening to Perahia, time is perceived as a constant.  Listening to Zhu,
time is perceived as a liquid.  Listening to Perahia, if your mind
wanders, things will go along in that steady and will be exactly where you
left them when you get back; you return at your own initiative.
Listening to Zhu, if your mind wanders briefly, time itself soon shakes
you gently back to awareness.  (This has nothing to do with tempo
fluctuations in the performances, but rather with the way Zhu bends the
listener's *perception* of time!  Hard to explain.  Weird stuff.)

-----

Here's another perspective on the Zhu performance (as I hear it):

Secret O' Life
(James Taylor)

The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time
Any fool can do it
There ain't nothing to it
Nobody knows how we got to
The top of the hill
But since we're on our way down
We might as well enjoy the ride

The secret of love is in opening up your heart
It's okay to feel afraid
But don't let that stand in your way
'Cause anyone knows that love is the only road
And since we're only here for a while
Might as well show some style
Give us a smile

Isn't it a lovely ride
Sliding down
Gliding down
Try not to try too hard
It's just a lovely ride

Now the thing about time is that time
Isn't really real
It's just your point of view
How does it feel for you
Einstein said he could never understand it all
Planets spinning through space
The smile upon your face
Welcome to the human race

Some kind of lovely ride
I'll be sliding down
I'll be gliding down
Try not to try too hard
It's just a lovely ride

Isn't it a lovely ride
Sliding down
Gliding down
Try not to try too hard
It's just a lovely ride

Now the secret of life is enjoying the passage of time


-----

Bradley Lehman, Dayton VA

That review of Zhu's CD, mentioned yesterday:
http://www-personal.umich.edu/~bpl/zhu-goldbergs.htm