A Disappointing Album of Brahms Transcriptions

from the Amazon.com Web page for the album being discussed

Almost exactly a month ago MSR Classics released a new album entitled Brahms in Transcription. This is a solo piano album with Uriel Tsachor as the soloist. As the title suggests, the album consists primarily of transcriptions of compositions by Johannes Brahms. However, there are also four tracks that present Brahms as the transcriber, two of which involve his transcribing his own music.

Considering that it was conceived for relatively intimate social encounters, rather than the “mass appeal” of the concert hall, “the art of the transcription” is a challenging undertaking that demands acute sensitivity to the subtleties of both the source content and the execution of the transcribed version. Transcriptions are often encountered in recital encores; but the scare quotes in that last sentence are intended to recall that, on November 1, 1981, that phrase served as the title of a recital that Earl Wild gave in Carnegie Hall. The entire program was subsequently released as a recording, whose CD version became very difficult to get; but, thanks to a series entitled Great Pianists of the 20th Century, the recording is now more readily available.

In that context it is worth observing that, in preparing his recital, Wild did not account for any selection by Brahms as either composer or transcriber. Tsachor’s recording provides evidence that this may have been a wise decision on Wild’s part. The core of Tsachor’s album is taken from a publication by N. Simrock entitled Fünf Langsame Sätze Aus Den Sinfonien (five slow movements from the symphonies), the symphonies in question being the four composed by Johannes Brahms. The transcriptions were composed by Max Reger. There is no questioning Reger’s perceptive appreciation of both the syntax and the rhetoric of Brahms’ scores. However, that appreciation does not reveal itself through Tsachor’s performances, and it is difficult to determine whether the shortcomings are due to Reger or Tsachor.

Were I do indulge in gambling, my bet would go on identifying Tsachor as the primary source of the problem. Over the full extent of the album, it seems as if all of his priorities have to do with the marks on paper. This is not to say that he ignores issues of phrasing; but, after several listening encounters, I remain hard pressed to hypothesize any logic behind his approaches to phrasing.

Equally problematic is that his overall approach to performance never really reflects back on that aforementioned context of intimacy. Wild’s recital was powerful enough that, even in the vastness of the Carnegie Hall space, one could still appreciate the intimacy behind each of his selections. None of the twelve tracks on Tsachor’s album elicits even the slightest sense of such intimacy, making the experience of listening a rather dull and uninspiring affair.