Mussorgsky Pictures at an Exhibition

Mussorgsky Pictures at an Exhibition

http://www.gramophone.co.uk/review/mussorgsky-pictures-at-an-exhibition-1

Grammophon Magazine Review

11/2011

The 2009 Van Cliburn winner views Mussorgsky’s Pictures

Author:

Jed Distler

Mussorgsky Pictures at an Exhibition

    Pictures at an Exhibition

    (3) Concert Studies, No. 3, Un sospiro

    Rigoletto (Verdi) Paraphrase

Given Nobuyuki Tsujii’s standing as the 2009 International Van Cliburn Competition gold medalist, you’d expect him to deliver a powerful, individually compelling recording of Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition rather than this tame non-event. His well-judged tempi are assiduously integrated, yet the musical miscalculations abound.

While he straightforwardly dispatches the Promenades and ‘Il vecchio castello’, they are blandly characterised and squarely phrased. The playful infants in the ‘Tuileries’ are affected by fussy accentuations, contrived speed-ups and poorly judged transitions between sections. Why impose Chopinesque diminuendos in ‘Bydlo’ when Mussorgsky doesn’t ask for them? After all, there’s no need to prettify the composer’s stern evocation of a dragging oxcart. Tsujii’s smoothed-out, soft-grained way with ‘Samuel Goldenberg und Schmuyle’ flattens out the overt thematic contrasts. Constricted dynamics and casually observed accents also reduce the busy marketplace bustle of ‘Limoges’ to the dimensions of a salon étude. Moreover, its coda is supposed to slam directly into the ‘Catacombae’ movement’s initial loud chord but Tsujii ruins this shattering dramatic gesture by inserting a tiny breath pause. The tremolos in ‘Cum mortuis in lingua mortua’ are pleasant rather than spooky, while the climatic ‘Baba Yaga’ and ‘Great Gate at Kiev’ movements lack dynamic contrast and dramatic momentum.

In Liszt’s Rigoletto Paraphrase, Tsujii speeds through recitativo passages as if he had no clue of their vocal origin, even though he admirably shapes long-lined melodies within thickets of decorative filigree. The small-scale yet suavely dispatched ‘Un sospiro’ is hardly the most impassioned rendition available, yet it’s easy on the ear. Tsujii’s workaday artistry and incongruous programme choices clock in at a stingy 44 minutes which, by compact disc standards, adds up to a non-starter.