Given Reynaldo Hahn’s high profile with the patrons of Paris’s
pre-war artist salons, it’s not surprising that his original works for
piano include a good number of short character pieces that exude charm.
Listeners coming to this exquisite body of work may initially find
Hahn’s attractive if modestly deployed keyboard writing recalling or
foreshadowing other composers: The sensuous, arching phrases of early
Scriabin preludes, or the sparse lyricism of late Liszt. Fauré’s subtle
harmonic palette may cast a benign shadow, or the effortless melodic
fluidity of Massenet; or Satie at his least brash and ironic, or the
delicate balance of Mompou’s piano miniatures.
Yet Hahn goes his own way. Listen to how the disarmingly simple
ascending two-note motif of Éros caché dans les bois (No. 9) weaves in
and out of a chromatically-oriented linear texture that sounds denser
than it is. Antiochus (No. 12) focuses on an obsessive chordal pattern
that assiduously builds to a fulfilling climax. By contrast,
unpredictable melodic twists and turns in the 30-second plus Portrait
(No. 14) keep listeners guessing in every measure. Also notice the
shimmering delicacy of the unison lines in Le Jardin de Pétrarque (No.
38), while Noces du Duc de Joyeuse (No. 41) is a masterclass in how to
sustain ceremonial momentum. In short, Le Rossignol éperdu is the early 20th Century’s answer to Mendelssohn’s Songs Without Words.
No hay comentarios:
Publicar un comentario