It's always a pleasure to find one of those recordings which makes you go "This piece can sound like that?' Vladimir de Pachmann's stunning interpretation of Chopin's Op 10 no 1 is one of those- a pearly tone and much slower than most, allowing a sumptuous clarity of detail.
The Romanze of Chopin's E minor concerto is not as difficult to interpret as the first movement, but is incredibly hard to make your own. Rosina Lhévinne, here in her 80s, plays it with such startling clarity and unpretentiousness that it really makes everyone else look like we're trying too hard.
Richter's recording of Grieg's 24 Lyric Pieces is perfect proof of how a great pianist can transform the most trivial of pieces, His characteristically raw, honest sound elevates miniatures which, in the hands of a less personal pianist, could have languished as pretty but soulless frills.
At his best, Jacques Prévert is capable of a touching simplicity. The below poem is my translation of Le Temps Perdu (Lost Time), which reminds me a great deal of two other works- one from Wilde, the other from Nietzsche. Nietzsche, in one of my favourite remarks by a philosopher, writes that 'Physiologists should think twice before positioning the drive for self-preservation as the cardinal drive of an organic being. Above all, a living thing wants to discharge its strength.' The instinct to put our talents to good use, to develop ourselves as best as we can, is fundamental to who we are. Yet, as Wilde points out in his fantastic essay The Soul of Man Under Socialism, the all-consuming quest of money (either as a struggle just to pay the bills, or out of greed) mean so many men pass through this life without ever answering the true callings of their talents. It makes me rather sad. Surely, it is time we reached a world in which it is unquestionable that everyone is granted the economic means to spend their time doing what they love and are good at.
French | English |
Devant la porte de l'usine le travailleur soudain s'arrête le beau temps l'a tiré par la veste et comme il se retourne et regarde le soleil tout rouge tout rond souriant dans son ciel de plomb il cligne de l'œil familièrement Dis donc camarade Soleil tu ne trouves pas que c'est plutôt con de donner une journée pareille à un patron? | Before the factory gate The worker suddenly stops The fine weather tugged at his jacket And as he turns And looks at the sun, All round and rosy, Smiling in its leaden sky, He winks. ‘So tell me, friend Sun, Don't you think it's rather crazy To give such a day To a boss?’ |
Comments