Ginastera: Piano Sonata nr. 1 - Ravel: Gaspard de la nuit - Brahms: 3 Intermezzi - Beethoven: 32 Variations - Constantinescu: Joc Dobrogean

I've been listening quite often to his CD over the last couple of weeks, maybe even months. I have been seeking out performances by the young Romanian pianist Mihaela Ursuleasa since I heard her take, in partnership with Patricia Kopatchinskaja, on Enescu's wonderful Violin Sonata nr. 3. This recital did not disappoint my expectations. It's an epic affair that starts with Beethoven's rowdy C minor variations (WoO 80), then moves to late Brahms's introvert Intermezzi op. 117 as a base camp to tackle the Everest of Ravel's scintillating Gaspard de la nuit. Ursuleasa ups the ante with Ginastera's fabulously kinetic Piano Sonata nr. 1, op. 22 and finally closes with a white hot encore in the Romanian style. All in all a tremendous achievement for a pianist in her early 30s. The recital is composed as a personal narrative in which each piece is associated to life stations or key relationships of the performer. For Ursuleasa, the Ginastera sonata conjures up the image of her father, a jazz pianist. The Beethoven variations she played already at the age of 10. Brahms she discovered and fell in love with when she took up studies in Vienna. In relation to Gaspard she reminisces about the fairy tales that coloured her earliest years. And the Constantinescu toccata is inextricably linked to her South-Eastern European roots. In all these pieces Mihaela Ursuleasa displays a gripping, muscular virtuosity, supported by a keen sense of architecture and an appealing clarity of contour. For me the highlight on this disc is most certainly the Ginastera sonata. Sure, it may not plumb the existential depths of the Brahms Intermezzi, but it reveals a very accomplished composer with, say, the fire and dash of the young Prokofiev. The opening Allegro marcato is a rambunctious dance as they also feature prominently in his symphonic ballets. The ensuing Presto misterioso is a wonderfully atmospheric, shadowy movement played almost pianissimo throughout. Then follows an expansive, nocturnal Adagio molto appassionato. It opens with a mysterious theme quite extraordinaly played, it seems, by directly plucking the strings of the piano. A beautiful movement, accesible and modernistic. The finale - Ruvido ed ostinato - is a predictable return to Ginastera's most obsessively kinetic mood. Party time, indeed! All in all a great CD to which I will often return.

Ginastera: Popol Vuh and other orchestral works

A break from Debussy's delicate watercolours (or pen drawings) with Alberto Ginastera's cartoonish works for orchestra. I hasten to add that I don't want to suggest disdain for this superbly colourful and actually quite sophisticated music. I got to know Ginastera's Estancia, likely his best known work, ages ago on an LP with recordings conducted by Enrico Batiz. At that time it didn't make a lasting impression. But this CD surprised me with an unexpected level of compositional skill and refinement. Another aspect that turned my ears red is the jaw-dropping energy that the female conductor Gisèle Ben-Dor of Israeli extraction (unbeknownst to me) brings to the performance of these pieces. Particularly in the two ballet suites - Panambia op. 1 and Estancia op. 8 - the London SO seem to be at the very edge of their seats!

Stylistically, these pieces oscillate between athletic primitivism and a poignant, rustic lyricism à la Copland (with whom Ginastera studied). They are symphonic spectaculars in the true sense of the word, featuring an abundance of explosive rhythms and memorable tunes. What also strikes is Ginastera's fantastic mastery of the orchestra, even in his op. 1 which he wrote at the tender age of 20.

In addition to the ballet suites the CD features three orchestral works that come more or less from the same mould. The Suite of Native Dances op. 15 is very short and probably the least memorable of the package. Ollantay (A Symphonic Tryptich), op. 17 is much more substantial. It's, as so often with Ginasteria, inspired by Incan lore. Here the colours are more muted and the symphonic argument more differentiated than in the suites. The most notable piece on this CD is the unfinished opus Popol Vuh: The Mayan Creation, op. 44. Allegedly this was a commission by Eugene Ormandy which Ginastera was very slow to take up and eventually he continued to work on it for almost 20 years. It was still unfinished by the time of his death in 1983. But 8 of the 9 planned sections were performable and the premiere took place in 1989 by Leonard Slatkin and the St Louis Symphony. Popol Vuh is a 25 minute orchestral fantasy that is a cross between, say, Varèse and Ravel. The Mayan creation is depicted as a sequence of expressionistic orchestral tableaux that ascend from the depths of The Everlasting Night to the Dawn of Mankind. I can't detect a deep symphonic logic in it, but there is no denying that this piece provides evidence of an unflagging creativity and an unbroken musical imagination.

Popol Vuh and Ollantay are very capably performed by the BBC Welsh Orchestra with Ben-Dor at the helm. Although the CD collates recordings with different orchestras and venues, the sonic picture is remarkably consistent. The sound is rather resonant, with fairly good bass and mid-range but a mushy top end. As a result in the most frenzied tuttis the orchestra tends to shrink into a blur. But I'm not complaining as this CD has given me a good deal of listening pleasure.