Daniel Ericourt Plays Debussy
Posted by: Todd A on 25 May 2005
In the midst of a Beethoven feast, I thought some less Germanic piano music might be welcome. Chopin? Nah, not right now. Prokofiev? I needed something less aggressive, not more. Debussy? Yes, Debussy would do nicely. I haven’t picked up any new recordings of Debussy piano music in a while, so I thought a new disc or two would be nifty. Fortunately, BRO has Daniel Ericourt’s 4-disc set of all of the solo piano music on Ivory Classics for a handsome $20. I’d seen some positive reviews, so why not. Upon reading the name Daniel Ericourt, your first reaction may very well be mine: Who? Turns out Mr Ericourt was born in France in 1903 and as a teenager got to know Claude and his family. Later he came to the good old US of A and took up various teaching positions at the Curtis Institute and UNC-Greensboro (which helped fund this set). Mr Ericourt was fortunate enough to live until 1998, and this set was released to celebrate his centenary.
On the evidence of the works I listened to tonight, Mr Ericourt learnt his Debussy exceedingly well somewhere. From the very outset it was clear that this is Debussy playing of a very high order. How high an order? I can say with confidence that only Gieseking and Michelangeli do better. Seriously. For no particular reason, I started with La plus que lente, a work I seldom listen to. Ericourt made me reconsider my listening practices. Soft, reticent, defiantly dismissive of expectation, Ericourt plays in a delicate, unpercussive manner, and the ultra-slow waltz evokes an image of a tired pianist freely inventing his dance piece for an audience of a few dedicated or dejected souls at 4:00 AM in a jazz club. It is atmospheric and free and enchanting.
Moving to a “big” work only improves matters. Pour le piano is a fine little ditty that always gets me going, at least in a good recording or performance. This beats “good.” Ericourt is fleet, light, and shimmering at the outset, and all of the faster passages display those general traits. To those traits, add a color palette of near Giesekingian breadth. A half-dozen notes can result in seven tonal shadings. Too, his touch is so minutely differentiated, his control of every aspect of the quieter end of the spectrum so absolute, that Ericourt can find almost as many shades and levels between p and pp as Wilhelm Kempff. The Sarabande shows this to magnificent effect. Slow and measured, it nonetheless commands undivided and selfish attention – no distractions, please! Now, add to the aforementioned traits the agility of Robert Casadesus or even Friedrich Gulda and one gets a Toccata of glittering, gliding delight. Ericourt’s dynamic attack is not Olympian, though the recording helps (or hinders) here, but his conception is not like, say, Ivan Moravec: no, his seeks that ideal of a piano played without percussiveness.
The Estampes further reinforces this. The Pagodes nicely evoke an Eastern feel, if ultimately Gieseking goes just that little bit further. (As luck would have it, I listened to some Gieseking in the afternoon.) Light and graceful through most of the piece, things are only hampered by brittle sound during some louder passages. The rising and falling passages at the end of the piece are so meticulously and brilliantly and shimmeringly played that I gained a new appreciation for Mr Debussy’s achievement. The Soiree dans Grenade opens in Le gibet fashion, and returns to a rocking (as in gondola, not The Scorpions), hypnotic slowness as appropriate. In more excited passages, Ericourt displays all of his strengths in an unassailably perfect blend. Jardins sous lapluie opens strikingly quickly, but with a feline grace that grabs the attention. To the end, it is near-ideal.
The two Arabesques here are remarkable. The first is ravishing. Ericourt continues to fastidiously eschew percussiveness, and the dividends are more generous than those Lee Raymond offers. His tone is very finely graded. His dynamic control, too. He displays all these things through the cleanly played, wonderfully articulated faster parts and the wondrous descending passages. Rarely have I enjoyed the piece more. Same with the second one. Flitting, graceful, and charming, it enchants.
To finish the evening, I chose four miniatures. First was L’Isle joyeuse. Ericourt knows when to dazzle, and here he does. His exuberant, extroverted playing never descends into ostentatious virtuosity, though. It fits perfectly. The Danse bohemienne is a perfectly delightful piece of juvenilia. The Berceuse heroique starts boldly, darkly, and more starkly than any of the other works on tonight’s menu, with an insistent low register ostinato underpinning long (relatively speaking, of course) passages. Otherwise, take the things I wrote about the other works and they apply here, too. I finished up with the Hommage a Haydn, which nice as the slow, little waltz and jaunty scherzo are, don’t really remind me of Haydn.
So what’s the catch, right? Sound quality. It ain’t so hot. All of the works were recorded between 1960 and 1962 for Kapp Records (huh?) and sound as though archiving was never the highest priority for that label. While not as bad as the atrocious sounding Walter Klien set of Brahms’ piano music, some distortion creeps in, and the sound can be brittle, bright, and downright unpleasant. Hiss and spurious noise are constantly variable, to the point where the levels undulate constantly in some places. It also sounds as though LPs may have been used from time to time. Big whoop, I say! This is a find. After getting Friedrich Gulda’s Amadeo LvB cycle recently, I was sure I had stumbled upon my big pianistic find of the year. Looks like I have another one. If the rest of the set is as good as what I heard tonight, this goes on the best of the year list for sure. Man, I want it to be Thursday (how often do you find yourself saying that?) so I can hear some more!
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On the evidence of the works I listened to tonight, Mr Ericourt learnt his Debussy exceedingly well somewhere. From the very outset it was clear that this is Debussy playing of a very high order. How high an order? I can say with confidence that only Gieseking and Michelangeli do better. Seriously. For no particular reason, I started with La plus que lente, a work I seldom listen to. Ericourt made me reconsider my listening practices. Soft, reticent, defiantly dismissive of expectation, Ericourt plays in a delicate, unpercussive manner, and the ultra-slow waltz evokes an image of a tired pianist freely inventing his dance piece for an audience of a few dedicated or dejected souls at 4:00 AM in a jazz club. It is atmospheric and free and enchanting.
Moving to a “big” work only improves matters. Pour le piano is a fine little ditty that always gets me going, at least in a good recording or performance. This beats “good.” Ericourt is fleet, light, and shimmering at the outset, and all of the faster passages display those general traits. To those traits, add a color palette of near Giesekingian breadth. A half-dozen notes can result in seven tonal shadings. Too, his touch is so minutely differentiated, his control of every aspect of the quieter end of the spectrum so absolute, that Ericourt can find almost as many shades and levels between p and pp as Wilhelm Kempff. The Sarabande shows this to magnificent effect. Slow and measured, it nonetheless commands undivided and selfish attention – no distractions, please! Now, add to the aforementioned traits the agility of Robert Casadesus or even Friedrich Gulda and one gets a Toccata of glittering, gliding delight. Ericourt’s dynamic attack is not Olympian, though the recording helps (or hinders) here, but his conception is not like, say, Ivan Moravec: no, his seeks that ideal of a piano played without percussiveness.
The Estampes further reinforces this. The Pagodes nicely evoke an Eastern feel, if ultimately Gieseking goes just that little bit further. (As luck would have it, I listened to some Gieseking in the afternoon.) Light and graceful through most of the piece, things are only hampered by brittle sound during some louder passages. The rising and falling passages at the end of the piece are so meticulously and brilliantly and shimmeringly played that I gained a new appreciation for Mr Debussy’s achievement. The Soiree dans Grenade opens in Le gibet fashion, and returns to a rocking (as in gondola, not The Scorpions), hypnotic slowness as appropriate. In more excited passages, Ericourt displays all of his strengths in an unassailably perfect blend. Jardins sous lapluie opens strikingly quickly, but with a feline grace that grabs the attention. To the end, it is near-ideal.
The two Arabesques here are remarkable. The first is ravishing. Ericourt continues to fastidiously eschew percussiveness, and the dividends are more generous than those Lee Raymond offers. His tone is very finely graded. His dynamic control, too. He displays all these things through the cleanly played, wonderfully articulated faster parts and the wondrous descending passages. Rarely have I enjoyed the piece more. Same with the second one. Flitting, graceful, and charming, it enchants.
To finish the evening, I chose four miniatures. First was L’Isle joyeuse. Ericourt knows when to dazzle, and here he does. His exuberant, extroverted playing never descends into ostentatious virtuosity, though. It fits perfectly. The Danse bohemienne is a perfectly delightful piece of juvenilia. The Berceuse heroique starts boldly, darkly, and more starkly than any of the other works on tonight’s menu, with an insistent low register ostinato underpinning long (relatively speaking, of course) passages. Otherwise, take the things I wrote about the other works and they apply here, too. I finished up with the Hommage a Haydn, which nice as the slow, little waltz and jaunty scherzo are, don’t really remind me of Haydn.
So what’s the catch, right? Sound quality. It ain’t so hot. All of the works were recorded between 1960 and 1962 for Kapp Records (huh?) and sound as though archiving was never the highest priority for that label. While not as bad as the atrocious sounding Walter Klien set of Brahms’ piano music, some distortion creeps in, and the sound can be brittle, bright, and downright unpleasant. Hiss and spurious noise are constantly variable, to the point where the levels undulate constantly in some places. It also sounds as though LPs may have been used from time to time. Big whoop, I say! This is a find. After getting Friedrich Gulda’s Amadeo LvB cycle recently, I was sure I had stumbled upon my big pianistic find of the year. Looks like I have another one. If the rest of the set is as good as what I heard tonight, this goes on the best of the year list for sure. Man, I want it to be Thursday (how often do you find yourself saying that?) so I can hear some more!
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