Rhonda on record

Press, 7 June 1982, Page 11

Rhonda on record

Classiciilrmrik

ALLAN FRANCIS

Better known as a visual artist, Rhonda sings very nicely on record (Philips LP 6456 012 or cassette 7232 012). with 18 tracks to prove her point. They are. of course, the best of Maori songs so it is fitting that this particular batch be issued in this form. Arranged and produced by Carl Doy, who also doubles on keyboards and synthesiser, the programme is the fine result of some fairly extensive teamwork. Lorayne Tennet of Polygram assisted with the design, while the name Gibson could not be anything but percussion. in keeping with family tradition. The well-known and the not so well-known are all given an airing, but to list but a few to whet the appetite the following are some of the tracks; Te Arawa E. Matangi. Pamai, Pania, Meri Kirihemete. Karu Karu. Pokarekareana. E Aue, Hine Hine, Hoki Hoki Tonu Mai and God Defend New Zealand — in Maori, of course. A fine tribute to Maori culture by a sincere artist.

SOUNDSCAPE — Electronic works by Douglas Lilburn. Winterset, Of Time and Nostalgia, Triptych, Soundscape with Lake and River. Kiwi Pacific SLD 59. Those like Kim Hubbard, who expect that classical music is the kind which will eventually turn into a tune, will rise in a chorus of "I told you so" at Douglas Lilburn’s Soundscape, where it is unquestionably difficult to find what the average listener could call a tune. Themes, maybe, but a tune in black and white terms, never.

These are the product of one of New Zealand’s most noted composers, in what may well be his final essay into the electronic world infused, without doubt, with atmosphere and programmatic material, but alas, no tunes.

The most impressive work is the title piece, salted with sounds of wildlife, and the least is Triptych, released in 1977, which comes unfortunately, at the end of the record' when the listening span has run out. With such a restricted field of harmony to work with the composer has to paint his pictures with the merest daubs of colour and thereby has most of his audience groping for meaning.

Taken in small doses these flights into impressionism are impressive — even infectious.

CHOPIN. Sonatas Numbers 2 and 3 played by Witold Malcuzynski, piano, on WORLD RECORDS WP 4081 from the EMI French studios, recorded in 1961.

Considering the standard catalogue has snubbed Malcuzynski completely for some years now, it comes as

a welcome return to have the great Chopin interpreter back on the shelves, even in this restricted category. The pianist deserved a better fate than harsh oblivion and this must be a warm clap on the back to World Records to recognise the oversight and then put things right. By choosing the two most popular Sonatas Malcuzynski is back up there with Varsary, Ashkenazy and Rubinstein - and some of their versions are pretty ancient by now, too. For what incredible reason do we hang on to dreadfully recorded versions like the Murray Perahia when this one has been tossed out? The sheer beauty of these performances by Malcuzynski and the high standard of recording quality makes it all worth while, if justification is needed at all. In a world which is becoming rapidly besotted with experts in all genre, it is a welcome relief to get true quality into correct perspective and recognition of genuine craftsmanship must be a right rather than a luxury. Malcuzynski’s masterly command of Chopin’s entire range of mood and colour must be respected even if the listener has already got pet versions tucked away. His consummate skill with Chopin is already heightened by his absence and now it is like welcoming back an old friend.

BEETHOVEN PIANO SONATAS. VOLUME 3. Artur Schnabel, pianist, plays Sonatas 16, 17, 18. 19, 20, 21, 22 and 24, recorded in the early 1930 s by EMI and released now by World Records WI 4216-3 (3 discs). As everyone knows, Schnabel’s Beethoven is far from perfect but to overlook it on that account is akin to ignoring Beethoven altogether. For all the eccentricities, the boxiness and shrillness of sound quality, the unexpected

fast tempos when all others prefer a more measured tread, Schnabel’s deep understanding must be respected and he should be heard.

This set is the one leading up to the fourth and final chapter, the bridgehead, if you like, approaching the most massive and commanding sonatas, Op 109, 110, the Appassionata and Hammerklavier and the like. These under review, however, open with the nervously agitated Op. 31 Sonatas which sound nothing like Brendel. Backhaus or Ashkenazy and dating from the early 1930 s recording dates. On first hearing, these are not compelling performances. perhaps because of the accustomed modern approach of the more familiar versions. Second and third hearings bring out the highly individual touch.

“Don’t neglect the music’s fierce plebeian voice,” entreats Cortot about one particular scherzo, but this directive could well apply to most of these mighty pieces. The Scherzo from Sonata No. 18 could well come into this category just as appropriately as the later works to which Cortot referred.

Schnabel’s tempos may take quite a bit of getting used to; from racing speeds, especially in the Waldstein, to some mumbling passages and thence to wonderful moments of aerial grace. Perfection is certainly not one of the attributes of the set, and Schnabel is not one of the greatest pianists of any age, yet there is a compulsion about his playing which cannot be ignored.

For all the eccentricities and faults there is more than a passing touch of genius here which should be experienced.