Andrew Clements 

Pascal Rogé

Queen Elizabeth Hall, London
  
  


Playing Debussy's piano music demands a very particular sensibility. Pascal Rogé has built up an enviable reputation in the French repertoire, but I'm not convinced he is as authoritative an interpreter of the Debussy Preludes as he is of, say, the keyboard works of Poulenc, Fauré or Ravel. This was apparently the first time he had devoted a recital to both books of Preludes, and he should be encouraged to repeat the exercise, for his playing definitely developed more character and authority as the concert went on.

There are reasons in the works themselves for that difference, too. Technically, the second book makes greater demands on the pianist than book one - there are more notes to get under the fingers, more complex textures to tease out. But the individual pieces tend to have more pungent characters in the second part. There is nothing as simple in book two as the rapt play of keyboard colour and tonality in Des Pas sur la Neige, which comes sixth in the first part, just as that sequence contains nothing as multi-layered and texturally complex as La Terrasse des Audiences du Clair de Lune, the seventh prelude of book two.

Rogé responded best to the music he could get his teeth into; when he had to deal with the more elusive, pastel shades and amorphous shapes that predominate in book one with pieces like Voiles and Les Sons et les Parfums - the "impressionist" Debussy if you like - he was far less convincing. So the performance began to really pick up with the first pieces after the interval, with the snaking habanera of La Puerta del Vino, the out-of-kilter cakewalk of General Lavine - Eccentric and the deadpan humour of Hommage à S Pickwick Esq. By the time Rogé reached the final Feux d'Artifice, everything seemed to be perfectly in place.

 

Leave a Comment

Required fields are marked *

*

*