Chopin: Preludes / Sonate 2 / Etudes Op 25

My particular criterion of "weighing" the great pianists is to attend their live recitals and evaluate the time that the magic they created on stage at the keyboard stays with me. If that magic lingers to appear or has to be given theoretical arguments to find it, then the pianist can't overtake in my classification the level "good", admittedly his/her technical proceeding proved faultless. But, if a certain performance remains in my mind or soul for more than a week or I do feel the need to recover certain details from my memories in connection to it, that means the performer's craftsmanship indeed had something outstanding to convey and managed successfully to; its message touched me in a very profound way and incites me to acquire his/her recordings. From this set of performers I select those whom I can name "great pianists". Moreover, if I am obsessed to repeat the live experience and look for the season calendars of the great musical venues in my neighborhood to find their names, then I think the musicians in cause belong to the super grand maestros.I welcomed Grigory Sokolov in the latter category, after his recital performed last year in Budapest. His program on that occasion comprised two Beethoven Sonatas (op.2 no.2 & op.27 no.1 "Quasi una fantasia") paired with the wondrous D major Schubert Sonata D 850. His "admission" among my favorites - one can say so - occurred gradually, during two fabulous hours in the spring of 2009. Before the interval, after listening to his version of Beethoven sonatas - played technically flawless but seemingly lacking the inner determination, showcasing a fierce virtuosity only and letting me ask why did he chose them, I murmured "good" and labeled Sokolov as "unimpeachable technician of the piano". Then Schubert came, appearing more inspirational to Sokolov who regained in the second part of his recital the fondness of sharing with us the magic of an astounding account, deeply felt and magisterially assumed. Plunged in a mysterious darkness, with a single light focused on the keyboard, the pianist conjured up a special lyrical atmosphere and brought with him the audience to explore wonderful melodies, vivid rhythms and amazing textures - a genuine gem of the Viennese style. At the end of the recital, I said loudly "great pianist", and applauded warmly to receive some encores. Here begins the magic. No less than six encores poured on the keyboard and blow-minded the audience, among them four Etudes, from the more difficult ones, by Chopin. The musical skills of Sokolov seem shaped especially for Chopin's music, for that melodious virtuosity uniquely captured in Polish composer's output and so rarely displayed by contemporary pianists. There is all about intense feeling and technical wizardry in pianist's burning at the keyboard. The result: a delirious enraptured audience willing not to let Sokolov leave the stage.On this Chopin recording, Grigory Sokolov plays the second book of Etudes (op.25) with the same sparkling virtuosity and undiminished sense of atmosphere. His masterful rendition is of the most refined quality, since the technical side and the mood of any etude are treated on equal footing, with special care and inspiration for each detail. For the second Sonata (B flat minor, op.35), one can hardly find a more appropriate interpreter. The famous "Funeral march" gets here its most dramatic reading, the movement's two main themes interspersing with a huge amount of despair, resignation and finally serenity. The 24 Preludes (op.28) arise by themselves as a huge poem with 24 lines, each of them telling a different story, each of them transporting the listener to a new and fabulous realm. They are treated in a unitary (and unifying) manner, polished with an infallible insight to an astounding degree of glare and effectiveness.Recorded live some twenty years back, this CD-twofer does justice to both a great composer and a great interpreter! Five stars!

Fast shipping and it arrived in very good condition. No cracks on the CD case. The CDs are also in very good condition.

This is one of the greatest pianists I have ever heard, and I have heard them all in the many years I have lived in New York City. The delicacy, brilliance and passion of Grigory Sokolov are among the most exciting performances by any pianist.

The best part of this collection actually comes at the end. In my mind, I associated Chopin with refinement, melancholy, introspection, but never with _fun_, and as it turns out, his second set of Etudes (Op. 25) is tremendously fun. There is a great deal of variety between the individual pieces in this set, and they feel looser, less bound to rigid structure than the Preludes or other works for solo piano.For example, No. 3 is an adorable evocation of a horseback ride, built on a cheerful "giddyup, giddyup" rhythm; No. 6 is a breathless flurry of sixteenths, like being swept up in a sudden gust of wind. In the second half, however, the mood darkens: No. 10 becomes downright aggressive, stridently spewing out loud, dark chords. At the same time, there is a certain internal logic to the set as well: Nos. 11 and 12 maintain the dark tone set by No. 10, adding swirls of high sixteenths over the persistent dark undercurrent in the bass clef. On the other hand, Nos. 4 and 5 clearly seem of a piece, with a similar rhythm, but No. 5 subverts it by introducing off-kilter, dissonant chords, creating an unusual but memorable "quacking" effect. These compositions are off-set by some more conventional material, like the elegant No. 7, which probably inspired Rachmaninov's early crowd favourite "Elegy," as it has a similar pensive mood and plaintive high chords stabbing through a darkly uneasy low-end murmur.The Etudes alone make this a worthwhile purchase (even if they were just tacked on at the end of the second disc), but it also has two other major works by Chopin. Piano Sonata No. 2 is, of course, one of his calling cards; it is also a very strange assemblage of very different parts. The most famous movement is the third ("Marche funebre"), which has been arranged and parodied in countless different ways. In its original form, it is a very slow but inexorable advance, draining all life from the world. In this it is very different from other famous classical evocations of death. For example, Mozart's Requiem is a massively emotional outpouring of grief and contrition, while Rachmaninov's Symphony No. 3 is a sober admission that life no longer has much to offer; but, it is clear that human feelings are at the core of both works, they are both human reactions to death, centered around the drama of the individual coming to terms with mortality. Chopin's Funeral March has no individual -- all life is gone, only emptiness remains, and at the end there is nothing to say and no one to say it. It is a bleak, nihilistic vision. Honestly I would not recommend playing it at a funeral; it offers no comfort or meaning to those who grieve.In the greater context of Sonata No. 2, the funeral march is even more nihilistic. It is immediately followed by a very short final movement, about a minute long, consisting of a ferocious blast of very fast notes, circling up and down with no resolution until the whole thing abruptly comes to an end with a very loud final chord. The sound of this movement is cold and impersonal, and it sounds like a brutal slap in the face to anyone who might still be alive after the funeral. Allegedly, Anton Rubinstein thought it sounded like winter wind blasting through the silent cemetery -- perhaps that's not a bad way to describe how heartless it sounds when juxtaposed with the bleak, but majestic third movement.The first two movements are similar to each other, but completely different from the last two. They are very energetic; after a short intro, the first movement gets going quickly, taking off in nervy, tense rhythmic passages. Here, there's definitely an individual, someone who is worried or lost in swiftly-moving thought. Perhaps Chopin's idea was that death arrives suddenly, putting an end to all individual cares and efforts, but it still feels like the sonata is pieced together from two completely different parts. In a sense, that is what is interesting about it: clearly he was not beholden to structural requirements, and experimented with different ways to subvert them even within very traditional forms.The Preludes are oddly the least satisfying part of the collection, even though they take up the entire first disc. I don't know if it's the performance or the composition, but I thought they were largely missing the freewheeling spirit of the Etudes. The most famous one (or at least the one I was most familiar with) is probably No. 20, which was reimagined by multiple composers later on, but I wonder if that's because the original doesn't have much content on its own -- the plodding main rhythm works best as a framework in which other people can develop their own ideas. To me, the best of the set was No. 24, which has a similar elegiac mood to Etude No. 7.The performer here is Grigory Sokolov, who is quite famous but perhaps not among the world's trendiest pianists as of 2020. I don't know enough about music to really compare Chopin performances, but what I like about his playing here is that it is very direct and unsentimental. Overall his take on Sonata No. 2 is very fast. The total running time is only slowed down by the third movement, which proceeds at a slow crawl, but without any false pathos. The other three movements are quite fast, particularly the final one. At the same time, Sokolov is able to lighten up for the Etudes, and he generally finds the right tone for each piece, so that the variety of the set really comes across. As a result, the second disc turned out to be one of the most replayable classical sets I've ever heard, and a great introduction to Chopin outside the waltzes.

This is not a Musac CD, it is a CD to listen to and to be transported to another world. Extreme dynamic range, emotive, evocative, impassioned. Sokolov will knock your socks off.

My favorite composer and my favorite pianist in one CD! I can listen to it endlessly.

Sokolov plays more "chopinian" as ever in this recording.

You will play this recording constantly!

Fantástico

This is an outstanding CD. Having heard it I doubt if there are any pianists around able to compete with, let alone surpass, Sokolov as a Chopin player. I particularly admired his interpretation of the Sonata, not least because unlike many pianists he observes the first movement repeat. Quite simply, a masterly account of Chopin's masterpiece, probably the best I've ever encountered, and I've heard plenty.

Un pianiste exceptionnel dans Chopin, comme dans Beethoven ou Prokofiev, en dehors de modes ou coteries: son jeu est tout à la fois personnel et respectueux de l'oeuvre. Magnifique!

Der Mann ist ein Naturereignis, das man vielleicht am besten verstehen kann, wenn man Grigory Sokolov einmal live erleben durfte. Da macht er den Eindruck eines Stoikers, dem alles lästig ist, was nicht unmittelbar mit seinem Spiel zu tun hat; selbst Abgang und Rückkehr im Zugabenteil geraten zum wohl oder übel absolvierten, immer gleichen Ritual - da kann man schon mal die schüchtern-zaghaften Blumenüberbringer übersehen, die doch freudig auf ihn zustreben. Erst bei der Wiederholung klappt es (2008 im Münchner Herkulessaal), und dabei gleitet auf einmal ein freudestrahlendes Lächeln über Sokolovs Gesicht, das man dem ansonsten unerschütterlich auf seine Tasten Fixierten überhaupt nicht zugetraut hätte. Dabei sollte man sich vom stoischen Auftreten des Meisters nicht täuschen lassen: Der Mann meint es eben ernst. Und wenn er spielt, geht die Sonne auf. Beziehungsweise: Erst geht die Sonne auf, dann ziehen Wolken über den Horizont, Regengeprassel, Donner und Blitz, erneut kämpft sich die Sonne durch das allmählich abziehende Gewitter, ehe es Nacht wird, doch niemals völlig dunkel: Da sind Sterne am Firmament, und Grigory Sokolov hat sie alle gesehen. Mehr noch: Er kann die Sterne zum Klingen bringen. Ein Naturereignis, eben.

alles war perfekt