The Classical Review CDs/DVDs

She may possess glamour-model looks – and be sexily photographed, leather-jacketed, for the cover of this release – but Lise de la Salle (born 1988) is an intelligent and probing artiste who uses her all-encompassing technique to positive musical effect in this generous,
77-minute Liszt recital.

However, its contents are not laid out satisfactorily. Beginning with ‘Après une lecture du Dante’ (Dante Sonata) is to place the longest and most roof-raising piece first. A better idea is to program your own sequence (which I did) or even trust to the CD-player’s shuffle option, which can bring juxtapositions either jarring or complementary, and never the same twice.

First, then, to the final track, the transcription of Isolde’s Liebestod (taken from Wagner’s great and seminal music-drama), one of Liszt’s least-successful adaptations, curiously silent-movie in effect, but
made rather more convincing than can be the case by de la Salle’s unexaggerated approach and her apparent certainty of transcendence. Following death, it seems natural to go next to ‘Funérailles’ (from Harmonies poétiques et religieuses, and subtitled ‘October 1849’), possibly written by Liszt in memory of the recently deceased Chopin, whose Op. 53 Polonaise is briefly quoted, to which de la Salle brings a raw intensity and a dramatic power that is compelling. From matters funereal to ascending to the clouds and the visionary Nuages gris,
Liszt in 1881 looking ahead to musical possibilities of the 20th century. Lise de la Salle plays it with appropriate detachment.

Returning to earth, and with a need for earthly love, the transcription of Schumann’s Liebeslied, really blossoms in de la Salle’s warm embrace, even if the piece itself sometimes comes close to sinking under the weight of Liszt’s of decoration. That serves as an interlude
of contentment before the lengthy and disparate B minor Ballade.
De la Salle makes much of its episodes while also ensuring a united front for the work as a whole. Her bringing the piece to rest is beautifully realized, creating the calm before the storm of Mazeppa, which shares musical material with the much longer, similarly titled symphonic poem.

In de la Salle’s swaggering account, Mazeppa’s piano incarnation more than holds its own against the orchestral score. After such heady machinations, being serenaded by Schubert’s ‘Ständchen’ is bliss indeed, further contrast afforded by an originally for-chorus movement from Mozart’s (left unfinished) setting of the Requiem Mass text. The austerely beautiful ‘Lacrymosa’ is very effective through the piano’s black-and-white address.

Finally, the Dante Sonata that concludes the second set of Années de Pèlerinage (‘Years of Pilgrimage’) descriptions in what is ostensibly the Italian leg of the journey undertaken here. From its stentorian call to attention, then the emerging of the most melodramatic of statements that becomes the most devilish of allegros, through a section of contemplative stillness, something consolatory, to the Inferno being re-energized, then cooling it with ethereal trills before culminating in a crowning and grand coda – like a phoenix from the ashes – Lise de la Salle gives a Heaven-storming and vivid rendition
of music that has its roots in Hell.

This issue is a notable achievement, one in which Lise de la Salle proves herself to be a dedicated and perceptive Lisztian. Moreover her piano is superbly recorded (in the Sendesaal in Bremen, Germany); very immediate in perspective without the listener ever feeling intimidated, full-toned with a thunderous bass and a treble that is bright without being clangorous. The dynamic range is wide, opening out impressively in fortissimos (which are captured fearlessly by the microphones), although it could be said that the pianist sometimes plays too loud – although she certainly unleashes the optimum potential of a modern concert grand with total confidence, she never quite achieves the very quietest of pianissimos.

In the course of her recital, Lise de la Salle conjures many fireworks and displays much finesse – the music, her interpretation and command, and Naïve’s high production values, coming together for
an important release.

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