Here are some reviews that I just picked up on the
web of Rangell's work. The negative ones are way off base and I doubt the
reviewer even listened to the disc! Seriously. The negative ones
remind me of things people said of Gould. I was surprised to see such a
consensus of thumbs-down. Oh well, our hero was no stranger to the
negative review either, was he? Give these discs a chance if you think
you'd be interested in them at all.
Jim
BACH: Partitas, all
Andrew Rangell, p--Dorian 93242 [2CD] 139 min
This is an odd release, not without interest. Gould's specter hovers nearby:
Rangell's articulation resembles the Canadian's famous detached
style. He even repeats Gould's trick of transposing the second Minuet in Partita
1 up an octave for the repeat. But certainly he's not just a carbon copy. The
phrasing shows more variety, the tempo more rubato. And his interpretive vision
certainly doesn't lack for originality. But this isn't my favorite Bach:
Rangell lacks a real singing quality--in spite of the tonal
variety of his playing--because he too often concentrates on the smallest
rhythmic values and loses sight of larger architecture as a result.
That said, the performances themselves have sufficient interest that, while I
don't agree with them, I also won't dismiss them out of hand. In fact he often
varies the surface of the music, working against the one-tempo, one-affect view
of baroque music--which often chokes the life out of it. The Passepied from
Partita 5 swings in a very compelling way, with all sorts of internal accents
and hesitations. He also plays the closing section of Partita 4's Ouverture
liltingly, with lots of contrapuntal clarity thrown in for good measure. In
Partita 3, many similar unexpected shadings and surprises make the Fantasia
particularly memorable. Likewise, the healthy measure of eccentricity in the
Burlesca gives me nice insight into that exceedingly odd movement.
Variety, though, sometimes leads to counterproductive results: two examples,
the Corrente and Gigue from Partita 3, sound a little too capricious--they have
drive but somehow lack overall purpose. I prefer harpsichord performances of the
same movements by Kirkpatrick on Boston Skyline (Nov/Dec 1995) and Rousset on
Oiseau Lyre (Sept/Oct 1994).
I'm all for performances that depart from the letter of baroque performance
practice, so long as they do so with musical interest and taste. Unfortunately,
some movements simply sound wrong. The hard-bitten and cheeky Sarabande from
Partita 3 annoys no end. So does the antiseptic, precious Toccata from Partita
6. In such cases Rangell gives the impression that he willfully
ignores what we know of baroque performance practice to serve his own ends and
not the music's.
Rob Haskins
Andrew Rangell, piano
SWEELINCK: Mein Junges Leben Variations; BACH: Minuet; Sheep May
Safely Graze; ENESCO: Carillon Nocturne; MESSIAEN: Les Sons Impalpables du
Reve; MOZART: Rondo, K 511; FROBERGER: Ricercare (1654); BEETHOVEN:
Bagatelles, op 126; Fugae--Dorian 80147 (Allegro) 70:37
Not all the eclectic group of selections on this disc seem to conform
to its title, "A Recital of Intimate Works", but they are given a
semblance of unity by the American pianist Andrew
Rangell (b 1948), who plays them all--regardless of period,
idiom, or expressive nature--in the same quiet, ruminative, and
exceedingly mannered style. Rangell seems to abhor
regularity of tempo, even in a formal 17th-Century work like Sweelinck's
Variations, and this turns Mozart's great and tragic Rondo K 511 into
spineless bathos. Everything in Beethoven's tightly-knit Op. 126
Bagatelles is played either too fast or too slow, becoming incoherent in
the process; and the fugue transcribed from his Op. 131 Quartet is a
muddle. What in principle looked like an imaginative idea is fatally
flawed by Rangell's execution.
~~~~~~~~
By MORIN |
BEETHOVEN: Diabelli Variations
RAVEL: Gaspard de la Nuit
Andrew Rangell, p--Dorian 93176 (Allegro) 69 min
This is one of the strangest couplings I have encountered. Both are seminal
works by their composers and stand among the most challenging in the keyboard
repertoire. At that point comparisons end. Yet given Andrew
Rangell's reputation as free-thinking individualist, this quirky
combination shouldn't come as a surprise. The recordings aren't of recent
provenance; both are from concert performances. The Beethoven was taped at a New
York recital in April 1977 (when Rangell was only 29). The Ravel
was recorded in concert in Ipswich, Massachusetts in July 1985.
What is striking the moment Diabelli's trifling little waltz begins its grand
transfigurative journey, is the pianist's commanding presence. He knows that he
is about to take his audience on a profound journey. That this guided tour
through Beethoven's thorny thicket is offered so early in a musical career gives
much food for thought. That he has thoroughly probed this difficult score and
renders a stunning reading offers just cause for amazement. This is a powerful
act of re-creation, often terrifying in its intensity--a reading filled with
sharp contours and contrasts. It is an audacious account comparable to Yudina's
stark vision (Philips). I like this kind of pianism, where music lives and
breathes and leaves the listener exhausted.
Rangell's riveting performance of Ravel's fantastic Gaspard de
la Nuit forces you to listen to everything that is going on in this daunting and
complex score. In his notes the pianist writes concerning Ondine, the water
nymph abandoned by her mortal lover (one of the three pieces): "Ravel's
intricate and ever-changing figuration delineates in a moonlit atmosphere the
shimmering, splashing, showering and surging of her watery domain, while
sustaining her plaintive and seductive song". I have rarely heard a performance
where the shifting figuration is so clearly, yet subtly, reproduced. The
dark-hued 'Gibet', depicting a body hanging from the gallows (an eerie nighttime
scene), casts a ghostly shadow. The almost Scriabinesque 'Scarbo' leaps from the
keyboard with terrifying ferocity. A masterly account.
The recording is quite vivid from both venues, though the piano is rather
thin-toned in the Ravel (perhaps an inferior instrument?). The bronchial New
York audience is very much in evidence. The Massachusetts crowd is quieter.
There is applause after the Beethoven, none after the Ravel. A fascinating
issue.
~~~~~~~~
By .-Allen Linkowski
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Gibbons, Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Chopin, Brahms,
others--Andrew Rangell, p Dorian 93194
(Allegro) 70 minutes
I might as well admit at the outset that I don't much care for recitals
like this--a series of slow and dreamy pieces calculated to put me in a
"romantic" or (worse still) "intimate" mood. I don't want to hear Brahms's
B-minor Intermezzo followed by Schubert's Allegretto in C minor, followed
by Scriabin's Poem-Nocturne, followed by another Chopin nocturne, another
Brahms intermezzo, and so on ad nauseam. After a while, I start feeling
like I have devoured five or six tubes of cotton candy in a row.
The only slight bit of relief is supplied by Beethoven's Bagatelles,
Op. 119--a very odd change of pace. What are they doing in this carefully
prepared and (otherwise) grimly sustained context of enforced "intimacy"?
Mr Rangell plays nicely, and his piano has a rich tone
with a pleasingly luxuriant bass. But that is not enough to rescue this
recital from the boredom of unrelieved sameness. This release belongs in
the same bin with Music by Candlelight, Melodies for Lovers, and An Entire
Hour of Beautiful Classical Music.
~~~~~~~~
By John Beversluis
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