{"product_id":"bizet-complete-piano-music","title":"Bizet: Complete Piano Music","description":"As soon as I saw \u003ci\u003eBizet: Complete Piano Music\u003c\/i\u003e listed as                     a new release on the Naxos website, I realized that I had never                     before even thought of Georges Bizet in relation to piano compositions                     or piano music. I listened to the album for the first time with                     trepidation. Was there a reason his piano works had evaded popularity                     for so long? Was there a reason that quick checks of the internet                     revealed only two recorded piano recitals of Bizet prior to                     this one, neither offering the “complete” works?                     \u003cbr\u003e                      \u003cbr\u003e                    Not all of this music is especially memorable, and none of it                     is profound. But one can safely slot Bizet into the tradition                     of Moszkowski, Paderewski, Mendelssohn, Gottschalk and others                     as a composer of admirable, charming little salon miniatures                     which, one imagines, gave amateurs of the day considerable pleasure                     and provided the composers with respectable calling-cards at                     evening parties. Even in this field, I would not credit Bizet                     with the originality some of those other composers exhibited                     in their works for piano. \u003cbr\u003e                      \u003cbr\u003e                    Julia Severus has carefully and cleverly programmed her two                     discs here. Each begins with lighter fare, progresses through                     a smart alternation of serious and slight, and ends with one                     of the \u003ci\u003eL’Arlésienne\u003c\/i\u003e suites, arranged for                     piano by the composer. The two nocturnes on CD 1 are reminiscent                     more of Mendelssohn’s \u003ci\u003eSongs without Words\u003c\/i\u003e than                     anything by Chopin, and I prefer the lovely cantabile F major                     to the less-inspired example in D. There are several waltzes                     bathed in the perfume of the salons of Paris. The C major waltz                     really is a clever delight with some surprises in store, although                     the “Grand valse de concert” does not have a main                     tune nearly as hummable as Moszkowski’s work by the same                     title. The three Esquisses include a “Ronde turque”                     which impressed me as sounding quite a lot more authentically                     Turkish than almost any other western piece bearing that title.                     \u003cbr\u003e                        \u003cbr\u003e                    The most dramatic work on CD 1 is \u003ci\u003eVariations chromatiques\u003c\/i\u003e,                     the chromatic passages of which serve up high drama and empty                     virtuosity in equal measure before the piece turns into a rather                     pedestrian, wandering “happy romantic” piece near                     the middle. An ominous ending, consciously imitative of Beethoven,                     barely manages to save it. The four Preludes are refreshing                     and nicely varied in mood, although they add up to just three                     minutes’ worth of music. The two Caprices are rather longer                     and I actually found the first quite interesting in its spicy                     blend of minor mode, sly attitude and stealthy rhythms. Again,                     think of Moszkowski, or perhaps even of a Chopin mazurka. Both                     Caprices sound as if they are just waiting to be orchestrated;                     by contrast, the first \u003ci\u003eL’Arlésienne\u003c\/i\u003e suite                     has been de-orchestrated here, and the beginning of the introduction                     does sound rather naked. In fact, it sounds like a fugue subject                     waiting to be put into counterpoint. The rest of the suite goes                     better; indeed, the minuet and carillons are quite successful                     as piano pieces. \u003cbr\u003e                      \u003cbr\u003e                    The second CD opens with the longest work in the set: \u003ci\u003eChants                     du Rhin\u003c\/i\u003e, a series of tone-pictures with titles like “Les                     rêves” which lasts for a little over twenty minutes.                     Even this work manages to be cutesy; “La bohémienne”                     is like a Chopin waltz composed by an inebriate. I think Julia                     Severus takes the opening movement a bit too quickly, but the                     others are better - “Les confidences” in particular                     is a well-voiced song begging for words. The most striking moment                     of the \u003ci\u003eMagasin des familles\u003c\/i\u003e comes near the end of the                     “Méditation réligieuse,” when Bizet                     caps off the piece with some unexpected, indeed totally out                     of place, fortissimo chords. Better is the second \u003ci\u003eL’Arlésienne\u003c\/i\u003e                     suite, which succeeds as a piano piece all the way through,                     especially the dance episode in the middle of the Pastorale                     and the dazzling passagework in the center of the final Farandole.                     \u003cbr\u003e                        \u003cbr\u003e                    A few miniatures fill out the remainder of the set, all of them                     from essentially the same “songs without words”                     mold. The only Venetian characteristic I can detect in “Venise”                     is its melancholy mood, something like (one might say, creatively)                     a city reflecting that its best centuries are behind it. A “Romance                     sans paroles” is rather sans interest. The surprisingly                     Latin American “Marine” hints that Julia Severus                     would probably be a great performer of samba, ragtime and composers                     like Gershwin and Ernesto Nazareth. \u003cbr\u003e                      \u003cbr\u003e                    I was surprised to realize that Bizet had even written piano                     music, so this set counts as a pleasant discovery. That some                     of the works, particularly the waltz in C, nocturne in F, “Marine”,                     and a few excerpts from \u003ci\u003eL’Arlésienne\u003c\/i\u003e, are                     actually very good makes this an even better surprise. Julia                     Severus is reliable and sensitive to the music’s lyricism                     and supplies her own well-written liner-notes, and the recorded                     sound is warm and close. This piano music is generally not too                     special - in fact none of it is “special” except                     maybe the sudden Brazilian turn of “Marine” - but                     all of it is, at a minimum, rather pretty, and “rather                     pretty” is a good thing to be. If you are fond of rather                     pretty piano music, here are two discs full of it waiting to                     be heard.\u003cbr\u003e                      \u003cbr\u003e                   – Brian Reinhart, MusicWeb International","brand":"Naxos","offers":[{"title":"CD","offer_id":49705649209624,"sku":"747313083176","price":20.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0687\/4346\/3192\/files\/1806829.jpg?v=1777573517","url":"https:\/\/hbdirect.com\/products\/bizet-complete-piano-music","provider":"HBDirect","version":"1.0","type":"link"}