Andrea Lucchesini Plays Beethoven

Posted by: Todd A on 23 July 2005

Who to hear next? That was the dilemma I faced. (Okay, it wasn’t a dilemma, but I surely had to decide.) The most glaring omission in my Beethoven piano sonata cycle was (and still is) Wilhelm Backhaus, but he will be heard in time. No, I hankered for something fresh and unknown. Well, as luck would have it, I stumbled upon a nice budget box of one Andrea Lucchesini playing this august repertoire at my CD hut. The set is but $52. It was on my radar. But then I noticed that Overstock has it for under $40. My mind was made up. But who is, I wondered? Well, he is an Italian pianist of the ripe old age of 40 this year. He’s won some awards and made some recordings, but I could find little about him. I did find an old review of a Beethoven recital disc in Gramophone’s archives where Joan Chissell praised his playing though she tempered her enthusiasm by pointing out Mr Lucchesini’s soft playing. Given the butchery of this music by Ms Øland that I recently endured, and the striking and powerful playing of Ashkenazy, I figured Lucchesini would make a nice change of pace.

My expectations really should have been higher. Much, much higher. Right from the outset of the first sonata I was held enthralled. Lucchesini plays the opening movement very fast, yet he plays very elegantly, and with lovely tone pregnant with subtle variations. He plays the next two movements rather more slowly, yet he maintains musical tension. He’s not “exciting,” but he makes up for a lack of undue flash and bang with glorious playing. His style is a bit cool, extremely refined, very beautiful, a bit on the soft side – but that’s quite alright with me – and consumed with meticulously planned flexibility. This is not of-the-moment Beethoven. This is more intellectually driven Beethoven. In the words of that famous Yello song: Oh Yeah!

The second sonata is just as successful, but on its own terms. The whole time I listened I was taken in by the beauty of Lucchesini’s playing, of the gentleness and control, of the inwardness and coolness (which is not the same as coldness). Lucchesini again keeps everything flowing along, adopting tempi and dynamics that are indeed softer than what some may want, but so what? He plays articulately and, when needed, with notable power, but his forte chords never sound hard or harsh or brittle. All is warm and glowing. As with the first sonata, spontaneity is in short supply, but ideas are not. Take the scherzo. He plays everything deliberately yet fluidly, emphasizing each note in the delightful little arpeggios and bringing them to life. The finale is more standard in terms of tempi, but Lucchesini seems incapable of playing an ugly note. The live recording is not note-perfect, but the slips are minor and the rewards major. Another gorgeous, thoughtful and thought-provoking sonata.

The third sonata continues along the same path. The opening two movements are both beautiful and soft and share a lyrical, singing quality. The third movement introduces some really brisk playing, but Lucchesini maintains his poise and wonderful sound throughout. Perhaps he’s not as prankish as some may like, but I’ll take the offset. The final movement finds Lucchesini gliding across the keyboard with remarkable agility and playing with some true strength, but he never loses his touch. Can this man be shaken? I hope not. The opening trio is quite successful, and if Lucchesini doesn’t join the heavyweights in style, he joins them (or nearly so, depending on which heavyweight one considers) in stature. Lucchesini’s style is too well thought out to really revel in the youthfulness of the pieces, but so what?

The Op 7 sonata keeps up the brisk pace and makes me a believer in the fast opening. Not heroic or brash, the opening here is swift and light and sweet. The wonderful Largo comes off a bit quicker than normal in the first half, and not quite as deep and probing throughout, but again there is that sheer aural beauty to savor. I do confess to having wanted a bit more depth. But beyond this quibble, there’s nothing but praise. The last two movements are played with delicacy and beauty beyond what one often expects with old Ludwig van.

Moving to the Op 10 trio shows a potential chink in the gilded armor, as it were. While Lucchesini opens the first sonata quickly enough, there’s little in the way of drama or power. Clear articulation and personal yet not bothersome idiosyncrasy follow, but I can definitely understand why some people would want more bite. The slow movement is, predictably, a success. (How nice to go from Ashkenazy who can sound slightly bored and boring at times to a pianist who sounds good in every slow movement.) But the problems, if that’s what they are, reappear in the final movement. The work as a whole should show angst and other Beethovenian qualities? It don’t bother me, but some may not like it. If the first sonata can be accused of sounding too light, then the second sonata suffers the opposite fate. Lucchesini plays the work with a richer, darker hue than is normal, and he succeeds. He keeps the opening movement moving along, but it’s not as buoyant as some may like. The Allegretto second movement at times sounds like a sublime Adagio, with Lucchesini creating an at times almost static sound world. He doesn’t play especially slowly or anything, that’s just the effect he has. The conclusion is light, quick, and technically assured, and I must say that I really wanted the repeat, but I’ll gladly take what he plays. I’ve read several times that the Op 10/3 is Beethoven’s first truly great sonata – a belief I do not share – but Lucchesini almost makes me believe it. He plays the work in a more serious fashion, with all of his strengths (and some may say weaknesses) on display. Everything seems expertly prepared and nary a note is out of place, and everything is so lovely and rich and warm sounding, that this work becomes titanic. He may lack the rhythmic perfection of Gulda, but in this sonata (and the end of 10/2) he shows that he can boogie. More importantly, in the Largo, he proves that he can create a world of luxuriant stasis and gorgeous aural power, even if some emotional weight goes missing. Listen, at about the eight minute mark, when he meticulously and inexorably builds up power and tension and then, then, releases softly. It is magical. The chirpy third movement is a delight, but the final movement – man, where does it come from? As should be clear by now, Lucchesini is the very antithesis of the banging virtuoso, but the irresistible, gorgeous legato cloud he creates at times, with some extremely soft playing to boot, is simply enchanting. More biting, forceful 10/3s are out there, but few are really more enjoyable.

Moving to the big, intense Pathetique finds Lucchesini delivering a curious success. He’s no heavy hitter, never letting his tone become biting or sharp, and his playing doesn’t undulate wildly, but he succeeds. His fast playing is remarkably fleet and nimble, his slower playing mesmerizing. The second movement, not surprisingly, is much more successful, but even the third movement succeeds beyond my expectations. No, it cannot match up to the best of the best, but it’s not a weak spot.

The two Op 14 sonatas should be superb, I thought, and so they are. Lucchesini’s warm, gracious tone and light, glittering fingerwork work to perfection. Both pieces come off as fun and relatively light, but not slight. Lucchesini’s particular strengths really work wonders, and if once again I miss that rhythmic prowess others bring, the relaxed sunshine the Italian brings is more than reward enough. I found myself quietly whistling along through most of the second sonata. Another pair of winners.

So, a surprisingly good set is underway. Hell, it’s better than good. I must emphasize that not everyone will be so fond of Lucchesini’s playing. Some may find it too soft, and not biting and boisterous and rough enough. But I really dig the highly refined, lovely, controlled playing. One must listen to Lucchesini’s Beethoven with utterly focused and unwavering concentration – something I find very easy (too easy) to do – otherwise some of what he accomplishes may slip by. There is some extraordinary pianism to be had here. As I listened I could only be impressed by the unpercussive nature of Lucchesini’s playing. (I would love to hear him in Chopin and Debussy.) To an extent, he reminds of a mix of Michelangeli, Kempff, and Schiff. Even that does not do him justice. For those who like flash ‘n’ fire, stay way. For those who like gorgeous, tasteful playing, dig in. Things are only helped by some of the best sounding LvB sonata recordings I’ve heard. (Only Jean-Bernard Pommier’s early sonatas sound better.) Okay, perhaps the sound is too close sometimes, and too distant sometimes, and perhaps audience and other noise creeps in at inopportune times in this all-live set, but complaints are meaningless quibbles. I love what I’ve heard thus far.

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Posted on: 23 July 2005 by u5227470736789439
Sounds like someone, who may well be performing within the approach of "style and respect," to quote Menuhin apropo (and not in favour of) the new American style viz a viz volume and tempi in the immediate post war time. Now I am curious!

Fredrik
Posted on: 23 July 2005 by pe-zulu
quote:
Now I am curious!
Fredrik


So am I. Fortunately I ordered this cycle three weeks ago from JPC and look forward to receive it soon.
Posted on: 23 July 2005 by u5227470736789439
quote:
Originally posted by pe-zulu:
and look forward to receive it soon.


Not to doubt Todd's view but do post! I have Schnabel, Solomon in some and Fischer in fewer. I need a modern set that is comparably great and I don't mean R. Kempfe, who is not my flavour. [Sorry to Kempfe fans].

Fredrik
Posted on: 23 July 2005 by pe-zulu
Yes, I shall do that. But I know all the cycles Todd has rewiewed except part of the Annie Fischer cycle and part of the Kovacevich cycle, and I use to agree with him in the most important matters.

Regards,
Posted on: 24 July 2005 by Todd A
I was keenly interested in hearing how Lucchesini would handle the Op 22 sonata. This sonata benefits greatly from a brisk, and, as Friedrich Gulda has shown, groovy approach. Lucchesini’s particular set of strengths seemed to guarantee a lovely, smooth sounding ride. And so it mostly is. Lucchesini does play light ‘n’ fast, with his glorious, flowing legato dominating the sound world, and he does groove just a bit, especially in the first and third movements. The finale is pretty much spot-on given his conception, but it is surely the slow movement where Lucchesini best demonstrates the value of his playing. Beautiful, never too soft, and with just the right speed, he nails it. No, his performance is no blockbuster like Gulda’s or even Heidsieck’s, but it’s darned tootin’ nonetheless.

I approached the Op 26 sonata with both hope and resignation. While I thought Lucchesini’s style would provide for a memorable interpretation, I also thought his relatively soft approach would render it something less than the very best. I was right on both counts, though fortunately he fares relatively better than I thought he would. The opening movement is played with that restrained beauty I expected, with Lucchesini playing in a pensive, detached way. The second and fourth movements, in contrast, are quick ‘n’groovy, Lucchesini’s articulation (a few flubs aside) quite fine, and his smooth, beautiful tone allowing for something more rocking when appropriate. But it is the funeral march that determines the success or failure of the work. Lucchesini can’t really be said to be too funereal, nor is his playing very march-like, but he does play with a serious, considered tone, with everything sculpted just so. This style draws inevitable comparison to his elder countryman Michelangeli. I cannot lie: Michelangeli is more successful in this sonata, and the supreme master of the stylistic similarities the two pianists share, but Lucchesini doesn’t wilt by comparison. It is excellent.

The same cannot be said for the first of the two Sonatas quasi una fantasia: It is brilliant! This sonata is one of the highlights of Ashkenazy’s cycle, so I didn’t really expect to be wowed, but what Lucchesini does with the piece borders on the miraculous. Looking only at the timings of the movements, one can see that this is a fast recording, but that hides much. Yes, right out of the gate Lucchesini plays briskly, undulating and groovin’ in his best Gulda style, but then he pulls back and floats a wonderfully atmospheric, contemplative, somewhat hazy though always crystal clear sound world. Lucchesini creates an ethereal world, where normal rules of dynamics and tempi melt away when confronted by his conception. Brilliant pedaling married to his glorious tone and nuance create a thing of beauty. Yet when he needs to play very fast and powerfully, as in the second movement, he does so brilliantly. Just listen to how he builds up the piece, carefully building up to an auditorium filling, wall vibrating crescendo (I was listening at very high volume) without sounding hard even once, and listen to how long he holds that last chord that segues attaca to the Adagio. It is perfect. Then listen to his wonder of an Adagio, with normal considerations of flow and time being rendered unimportant. Listen to his transition to the ending, and to the wonderfully alert, darting, groovy playing that so seamlessly transitions to an almost static slow passage right before the corker of an ending. How he manages to move so gracefully between tempi and dynamics and how he manages to infuse such wonderful phrasing is a mystery. This is not an emotional account, it is not a flashy account, and it most certainly is not a rhapsodic, of the moment account – Lucchesini appears to have pondered this piece for a long time and he has definite ideas about how it should sound. One must really focus on it (and I sat at careful attention, making sure to breathe shallower than normal so as to not miss even a note), but the rewards are great. This is a great recording. But only for those susceptible to Lucchesini’s playing.

After such a fine 27/1, the Mondschein was bound to be less impressive. As far as Mondschein recordings go, this is a good one, indeed. Lucchesini opens the piece in a slow, hazy way, using the sustain pedal and precise fingerwork to create the appropriate atmosphere. The second movement is quicker and more pointed, and though not really upbeat, it offers a nice contrast to the opener. The final movement shows that Lucchesini can play with outright pianistic fireworks if he so chooses. He plays fast and powerfully, but the combination of close-miking and liberal use of the sustain pedal results in an amorphous swirl of notes. There is also something I haven’t heard in modern digital recordings – a bit of breakup in a couple places. It’s barely noticeable, but notable nonetheless. The most vigorous applause thus far in the cycle indicates that this must be something to hear live.

I came to the Pastorale expecting great things. Lucchesini’s style literally begs for this piece. Or so I thought. Don’t get me wrong, Lucchesini’s take is an excellent one, it just doesn’t reach the summit my mind’s ear thought it would. The opening movement starts fine enough and sounds lovely, as I would expect. But it’s not laid back enough, and it doesn’t have a strong enough rhythmic pulse. Mind you, I’m comparing Lucchesini to the very best when I say this. Too, he infuses the piece with an unusual and reasonably effective anxiety and tension about a third of the way through. It’s not harried or nervous, but that easy-going sound is informed by something a tinge more troubled. The second movement more or less sounds right on, improving things a bit, but then the third movement is relatively too fast. It’s not truly fast, but in the context of the performance and Lucchesini’s style, it’s too fast. The finale is the most conventional and conventionally successful movement of the lot. Overall, this is a strong performance, and one I know I’ll return to again, but it is not really a highlight of the cycle thus far.

Another batch of sonatas has now served to reinforce my initial impressions. Lucchesini continues to take a soft-ish, aurally enchanting, thoughtful approach. Extremes of tempi and especially dynamics are eschewed in favor of a more controlled and inward looking cycle. Again, I love it!


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Posted on: 25 July 2005 by Todd A
It’s time for some critical listenin’. The Op 31 sonatas are critical for the ultimate success of a cycle. A pianist can nail all 29 other sonatas, but if these three ain’t top notch, the cycle ain’t great. That’s just the way it is. As various pianists have shown, there are a number of ways to play these and make them great. Think Kempff, Annie, Gulda, Frank, Heidsieck, or whomever else you desire, and you can see what I mean. Would Lucchesini deliver? Well, the first sonata of the trio certainly seems to point in that direction. As I expected, his approach is his own. The opening movement starts with cleanly articulated, snappy playing. But it doesn’t take long to hear the unique touches. Lucchesini shows that he has mastered the art of the well timed pause and subtle rubato. A number of times he’ll linger just a smidgeon more than one might think appropriate, yet it always works. The little touches are nice, but the conception isn’t too unusual. Then comes a wondrous second movement. First of all, the trills are played with an impossibly feathery lightness throughout. (Even the bass trills at the end are notable more for smooth, tasty legato than for perfectly clear articulation.) A few times the playing isn’t as clean as one may want, but it’s a trade off I accept. When he’s not playing trills, Lucchesini plays with an ethereal, otherworldly touch. Everything is so soft and delicate. It shouldn’t work, I know, but it does. The final movement finds Lucchesini cranking up the heat ‘n’ speed ‘n’ flash just enough to make it rousing and exciting. A few passages contain some minor flubs, but the musical message is right. Our hero just can’t resist adding his minute touches all the way through. The staggered ending is delivered with just enough oomph and impeccable timing. So far, so good.

The Tempest is even better. Yes, one can think of a number of pianists who make more of the dramatic contrasts in the opening movement, but Lucchesini’s considered, controlled playing and dark-ish hue sets the mood just right. Some of the lower register playing is strong and punctuates the piece as needed. The second movement is where Lucchesini shines. His meticulously thought out, rich sounding playing acts as both a contrast to the opening movement and bridge to the conclusion by staying in the right mood with subdued playing. The final movement has some urgent playing, and once again shows that Lucchesini can, when he chooses, play the virtuoso, though he never goes overboard.

The final sonata is the strongest of the critical three. Here, Lucchesini revels in bringing out the prankish, boisterous side of Lou. Sort of. He never simply lets loose. Everything is controlled and fits into his over-arching conception. That’s not a criticism, just an observation. The opening movement is just plain fun to listen to, but not as much as the second. Lucchesini cruises along, playing in the groove, and then one of Beethoven’s little musical outbursts arrives and Lucchesini is all over it. He revels in it before proceeding back to the main line. The third movement is a perfect blend of considered playing, beautiful sound, and an approach that doesn’t try to make the work sound too deep. Why would someone want to with the finale that follows? Here, Lucchesini plays fast and strong, and brings out the raucous elements just fine. But something else was cemented in my mind: Lucchesini has the uncanny ability to make even his fast playing – and it is fast – sound relaxed and natural. That’s not to say that he doesn’t have the bite or fury when needed, just that he can spin off notes so well, that nothing ever sounds hurried or fast for the sake of being fast. It’s pretty nifty. Anyhoo, this recording combines all of the elements I adore in this work in just about the perfect proportions. Another highlight of this surprisingly good cycle.

The two Op 49 sonatas come off well. The first one is played pretty straight forward in the first movement with Lucchesini adopting a faster and stronger than normal second movement. ‘Tis still a delightful little piece. For the second sonata Lucchesini again goes for a straight opener and tweaked second movement. Here, though, he goes the opposite direction, playing the delightful theme from the Septet slower than normal. The music sounds lovely this way, and ends the works well.

Now it’s on to the Waldstein. In this work Lucchesini relies heavily on his ability to play with remarkable speed. The only downside is that the recorded sound does not allow for a clear enough sound picture. But that’s the only complaint. The opening passage is simply wonderful, and when Lucchesini does slow down, it’s merely a rest before it’s off to the races again. His apparent dynamic range is not titanic, but everything is so well controlled and genuinely exciting that I didn’t care. (A few flubs did not dampen my enthusiasm one bit.) The second movement is played in a slower and not especially contemplative fashion, though truth to tell, I like it that way. It never runs the risk of devolving into sentiment. The final movement is again possessed of nimble fingerwork and adrenalized music-making. Lucchesini shows that he can hammer out a loud crescendo without even a hint of strain or steel, and the whole thing is just plain invigorating. There are deeper, more searching accounts out there, but relatively few are more enjoyable. This is a big hit. I wonder what awaits . . .


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Posted on: 26 July 2005 by Todd A
A successful Waldstein raised my expectations for the other great middle sonatas. My expectations have been met. The Op 54 is fantastically successful, and Lucchesini does this while putting his own stamp on the work. I assumed he would be lyrical since he can’t seem to help himself in that regard, and I was right. But he does something unexpected: he plays the opening movement with a bit more force and incisiveness than I expected. He shows that he can move beyond smooth and beautiful legato to clean and beautiful staccato without missing a beat. His left hand foundation for the right hand figurations is superb, and everything moves along nicely. In the second movement he slows things down a bit, relishing both the beauty contained in the piece and the deceptively dense writing. He finishes the piece by speeding up markedly while playing with remarkable accuracy. This is a doozy of a performance.

But not as much as the Appassionata. Lucchesini keeps his intellectual cool throughout this work, and somewhat like Pollini in his recent live account, he really hammers out the music. That’s not to say he bangs away – far from it. He starts the piece with restraint and taste, but when the first emotive explosion comes, Lucchesini unleashes his playing, so to speak, and plays both dizzyingly fast and with immense strength. The crescendos once again set my walls to vibrating, and his left hand playing is heavy and strong, yet always, always in control. While he never quite succumbs to of-the-moment urges, his approximation is close enough and truly invigorating. In the second movement Lucchesini backs off appropriately, and plays with a satisfyingly forlorn sound that builds up perfectly to the closing movement. Again, it is quick and immensely powerful, with outbursts so well timed and executed that this listener, at least, was leaning forward just a tad in the old La-Z-Boy as Lucchesini raced to the finish. This is one of the best non-Annie versions I’ve heard, and certainly shows that great Beethoven playing is not dead.

So do the two little sonatas that follow, not that you can call Lucchesini’s conception little. The first movement of the Op 78 sonata is played beautifully from start to finish, Lucchesini bringing his glorious tone and finely graded touch to create something more akin to late Beethoven than a mere trifle. The second movement proceeds along the same path. The Op 79 finds Lucchesini playing the role of virtuoso in a convincing manner. The outer movements are played very fast and with notable articulation and strength, and Lucchesini burns right through the “off-key” passages at the end of the first movement with a sense of fun and energy. The second movement is played with feeling and depth and makes the whole work seem more significant than normal. This is some seriously good stuff.

One of the best recordings I’ve heard of late of the Les Adieux concluded today’s listening. As in the Op 57, Lucchesini shows that he can play with immense power, easily establishing the pianistic equivalent of an orchestral sound. The piano swells and surges and fills the auditorium with nary a hard sound to be heard. While not the most emotional take I’ve heard, Lucchesini does bring a credible emotional feel to this work. The opening movement is indeed a farewell, but it’s one filled with more cheer than normal, knowing that the return will come. The second movement offers more of a sense of lonely impatience than contemplative sorrow, but it still builds to a massive, ebullient ending that simply grabs the listener and won’t let go. A few moments of lapsed concentration cause no harm in the context of such a finely considered and delivered version.

Up to this point I definitely prefer Lucchesini to Ashkenazy, and now I’m at the same point in both cycles. Perhaps a head-to-head for the last half-dozen . . .


Click Here For The Late Sonatas

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Posted on: 27 July 2005 by u5227470736789439
Dear Todd,

Which label in UK?

Fredrik
Posted on: 27 July 2005 by Todd A
It's on the Stradivarius label. MDT has it for under 35 pounds.
Posted on: 02 August 2005 by John L
Todd,

Nice write-up! I bought a copy on Overstock.com and hopefully I will have some time this weekend to listen to the whole cycle.

Thanks!

John Litwin
Posted on: 04 August 2005 by pe-zulu
quote:
Originally posted by Fredrik H:
quote:
Originally posted by pe-zulu:
and look forward to receive it soon.

Not to doubt Todd's view but do post! I have Schnabel, Solomon in some and Fischer in fewer. I need a modern set that is comparably great and I don't mean R. Kempfe, who is not my flavour. [Sorry to Kempfe fans].
Fredrik


Having heard by now the first half of Lucchesinis cycle, I think, that this is some of the most consistently convincing Beethoven-playing, I have heard for some time. I wonder, how the second half is, but it is probably not less than good. I shall post in more detail, when I have had the time to listen to it.

Regards,
Posted on: 07 August 2005 by pe-zulu
Having heard now the complete Lucchesini set I can´t but say, that this is an exellent interpretation. Lucchesini´s style is warm, human, lyrical, singing and rethorical and reminds of Barenboim, when he (Barenboim) is best, but Lucchesini is more colourful and expressive, and does never loose the grasp of the whole. Indeed Lucchesinis touch is so variated, that he is almost able to "orchestrate" the music. Especially in the slow movements we hear some extremely delicate playing. These are live recordings with applause after each sonata, but elsewhere you don´t think of it. The sonatas op.101,106,109 and 111 are the least succesful. Not that they are bad, but for some reason they are not quite up to the high standard of the others. Maybe Lucchesinis lyrical style is less suitable for the very abstract style of the last sonatas. All in all though this set is very recomnmendable, a must have.

Regards,
Posted on: 07 August 2005 by Todd A
I'm glad to see you like the set, too, Poul. Now I just hope that Lucchesini plays a recital in my part of the world and that he gets to record more. A talented pianist to be sure.
Posted on: 08 August 2005 by barry f
Todd--I was so glad to discover this forum and your review of Andrea Lucchesini's Beethoven Sonatas. I first heard Mr. Lucchesini play in Munich twenty years ago when he was twenty. He played the 24 Chopin Preludes, the the Impromptus, and the B Minor Sonata. His playing had me rethinking my philosophy of reincarnation. As one of the reviewers said, "Lucchesini plays with the artistry of a much older performer like Serkin and the freshness of one his age." He recorded these works that year as well and I have enjoyed listening to the preludes again and again. You can imagine my excitement to find his Bedethoven recording on Overstock.com this spring simply by chance. I think, because it was recorded on a fairly minor Italian label, it has not received much publicity in the US which I think is too bad. As important as it is to hear/own many different artists' interpretations of these great works, his is one I would recommend as a quality and affordable set for anyone looking to venture into the world of the sonatas.

Because he is much more dedicated to music than promoting himself as a performer or recording artist, he is not as well known as I think he should be. He is very interested in supporting new music and chamber music, and he has a passionate commitment to the development of emerging talent. I had the priviledge of observing him teach young artists last month and was amazed not only at his vast knowledge of the piano repertoire, but his ability to connect and communicate with the young artists as well. He is a great gift to the piano world and the world of music in general.

Again, thanks for your writing. I look forward to sitting with your thoughts as I listen once again to this fine collection. Anyone interested can find his performance schedule http://www.resiartists.it.
Posted on: 25 February 2006 by Todd A
Addendum

I was very impressed with Andrea Lucchesini’s complete LvB cycle when I first heard it last year. Repeated hearings of both the complete cycle and specific sonatas has only made me think more highly of Mr Lucchesini’s talent. Indeed, when I get a hankerin’ to hear my beloved Op 27/1, his is now the one I consider first. But the ’99-’01 live cycle was not Lucchesini’s first recording(s) of Beethoven. Rather, it was his third, as far as I can tell. In the mid-80s he recorded the Moonlight and Hammerklavier for EMI and in the mid-90s he recorded the Cello Sonatas for Stradivarius. Since I’m not keenly interested in another recording of the Cello Sonatas at the present time, I figured I’d like to try his EMI stuff. It’s long-deleted, though. But wouldn’t you know it, the good folks at BRO got it in, and his Chopin Preludes and Impromptus, too, so you know I had to buy ‘em.

Lucchesini has improved with age. His EMI recordings (which also includes a Liszt recital) were made (relatively) shortly after he won the Ciani prize in 1983, and all date from his early-20s. My experience with piano recordings and performances suggests that pianists need a bit more seasoning before they really start delivering the goods. Lucchesini is no exception. That’s not to say he’s bad.

The Moonlight comes across as a more youthful endeavor. The opening Adagio sostenuto is more biting and colder than his later recording, yet even thorough that and the slightly glassy and steely sounding recording and piano, Lucchesini plays with an at times warm and appealing tone. Even with the extra bite, his playing doesn’t sound as moody or dark as it does in the Stradivarius recording. The Allegretto is sunnier and less driven than his later effort, and the Presto agitato lacks the enviable forward drive of the later recording. While Lucchesini is no banger to begin with, his playing is softer in parts here, which makes the tension droop a bit. And the piano and recording sound steely at times. So, this is a decent recording with some fine things in it, but it’s not as good as Lucchesini’s second go-round.

The same holds true for the 106. My opinion of Lucchesini’s live recording has improved with repeated hearings, though I still don’t count it among my favorites. Overall, it’s warm, big, though never dull sound makes for an easy, enjoyable and always compelling listen. This recording, though, doesn’t. The opening Allegro starts off strong enough, but the young Lucchesini follows that up with playing that sounds too soft. His playing never sounds as flowing, either, and it lacks the musical impact of the later recording. The Scherzo is well played, but lacks the accelerated playing of the later version and sounds kind of flat at times. The Adagio sounds slightly more somber and serious here, and it’s not as lyrical, and the tension doesn’t hold up as well. The final movement opens with a somewhat cold, distant Largo and moves into a straight-forward, somewhat light fugue that just isn’t as involving as in the later recording. As with the preceding work, Lucchesini sounds better after another decade and a half of seasoning.

I’m still glad to have heard this recording if only to better appreciate how his playing matured and improved with time. Now I’ll have to sample his Chopin, and perhaps I’ll get lucky and hear his Liszt.