Agranovich’s Fascinating Mendelssohn

MENDELSSOHN: Fantasia in F# min. (Sonata ecossaise). Album Leaf in A min., “Lied ohne Worte.” Caprice in A min. Variations sérieuses. 3 Études, Op. 104b. Étude in F min., WoO 1. Rondo Capriccioso in E, Op. 34 /Sophia Agranovich, pno / Centaur CRC 4038

Sophia Agranovich has issued quite a few albums on the boutique label Centaur, all of them of Romantic-era composers. Back when she first started about a dozen years ago, I reviewed two of them for a noted classical music magazine and was very impressed. A few years later, now a freelancer, I also reviewed her recording of Schumann’s Carnaval which I found then, and still find now to be one of the most unique and fascinating performances of that well-worn score. The only reason why I haven’t reviewed more of them is simply because I’ve heard the repertoire she plays so many times that I leave it to those who want to hear that repertoire many times over.

But this one, like the Schumann, is a bit different, simply because the Fantasia in F# minor and the Variations sérieuses are not works that are recorded nearly as often as other Mendelssohn pieces. Thus although she does include one of the Songs Without Words (which I really don’t like very much) and a couple of the études, I decided to have a go at it.

One could never accuse Agranovich of being a glib performer. On the contrary, she plays with rich detail, bringing out moments that pass the ears unnoticed in the hands of other players. Sometimes these moments seem a bit italicized, but for the most part they are part and parcel of a performing style that relishes the moment as much as the overall conception. The opening Fantasia is a good example. There is a very fine and powerful performance of this piece played by the little-known Lydia Artymiw on Chandos, but Agranovich takes it one step further in terms of emotion. Every note is imbued with feeling; indeed, the opening movement is so expressively played that you almost feel like crying, so deep is her emotional commitment. Her piano is very closely recorded, so much so that those who prefer the more reverberant type of recordings issued today may find it a bit dry, but to my ears it has extraordinary presence. You feel as if you are sitting in a chair fairly close to the piano listening to her play, and from this perspective the feeling she puts into this sonata is almost overwhelming. I don’t think I need to point out that an emotional outpouring such as this is not entirely typical of Mendelssohn; he was, in fact, almost more of a classicist than a Romantic; but here Agranovich brings this sonata-fantasia into line with some of Beethoven’s and Schubert’s most deeply felt compositions. The problem is that, after such an auspicious opening movement, Mendelssohn reverts to his Mozartian side, light and airy. There is still much detail and feeling in her playing of the second movement, but after the deep feeling of the first it sounds like more of a musical bonbon. In the fast last movement, however, she reconnects with the music in a way that suggests a feeling of tragedy under the surface gaiety. It helps that this movement reverts to the minor, thus pulling the piece together. Her little luftpausen near the end of the movement, just before the exhilarating coda, is another nice touch.

Much to my surprise, I really enjoyed the Album Leaf from the “Songs Without Words” more than I can recall enjoying any performance of any of them in the past—again, because Agranovich digs deep into the music’s emotion. She also eases up a bit on the tempo in the little right-hand arpeggios in the middle of the piece, which makes the music sound less superficial than usual. Indeed, in her hands, even the Caprice in A minor sounds deeper and less “capricious” than usual.

This feeling continues into the set of Variations which, fortunately, are also primarily in the minor. One might say that. in a sense, Agranovich is the great tragedian of the piano; she reaches deep inside the music to pull out emotions that others suggest but do not become personally involved in. One wonders if this is the way Mendelssohn felt when he wrote these pieces, but in any case she elevates all of this music from the realm of nice entertainment to that of great tragic art. There is a moment, around the 10:50 mark near the end of this performance, where her feeling for tragedy makes the music sound almost overwhelming in its intensity. Such is her gift for translating the notes on the page.

The bottom line is that no matter how familiar or unfamiliar you are with these works, you’ll find something new and emotionally moving in all of them. Even the rapid Étude No. 2of the three Op. 104b set, rushes forward with an almost overwhelming rush of emotion in a piece that, being fast-paced, is normally played in a glib style by other pianists. I was deeply impressed by every piece on this album; as a whole, it presents a Mendelssohn recital you will not soon forget.

—© 2023 Lynn René Bayley

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