Greatness in an artist, a pianist, is a rummy thing. In a variation on Potter Stewart’s pornography dictum: it’s easier to hear than to define. Especially when a pianist, Alexandre Tharaud, finds greatness in smallness: He’s a master of miniatures; a virtuoso of vignettes. Greatness in a pianist like Wilhelm Backhauslies in the great calm, the stoic unfussiness in which long lines or piled-on heroism are played, in the resistance to bending even one phrase for effect if the effect on the whole isn’t productive. Greatness in the results of Alexandre Tharaud (in any case a musician who would recoil from having that word being applied to him), lies in the innately-judicious, instinctive application of wit, exaggeration, whimsy, playfulness, tenderness, and the like. Much of that has to do with the repertoire, of course: What makes a Bach Sicilienne or a bit by Couperin brilliant may not work for a Brahms Sonata—and that which lifts a Hammerklavier Sonata to a new plane may in turn be insufficient to inspire the “original and happy freaks”, to use Charles Burney’s coyly sublime description of the Scarlatti Sonatas. Greatness, ultimately lies in getting it just right for the piece being played, in the moment one is playing it.
|D.Scarlatti, Keyboard Sonatas, A.Tharaud|
Tharaud now records for Virgin Classics, after many wildly successful discs for Harmonia Mundi, a move that initially surprised the people at Virgin even more than me. “I have been friends with Alexandre for a long time, but I would have never asked or suggested he come over to our label” assures Alain Laceron—the Parisian head of Virgin Classics—believably. “When he called me [back then] and said he needed to talk immediately, I thought about anything—maybe medical problems, who knows. But not that he would want to join Virgin. In fact, I fought for Harmonia Mundi, because I can’t help to take the side of an artists’ label. But he wanted to join us, so in the end of course I was happy to welcome him to the Virgin family.” Very happy, indeed, I would think—along with the Quatuor Ébèneand Philippe Jaroussky and a few other judiciously chosen artists, he’s a musical crown jewel in their lineup that lifts the whole EMI/Virgin Classics brand in the eyes and ears of every connoisseur.
After his Virgin-debut, an amiable disc of Chopin which I enjoyed without being ‘wowed’ by it, we now get Scarlatti—due out on the 8th of March. At the very least since Horowitz recorded Scarlatti sonatas, Scarlatti-on-the-piano recordings have become commonplace and the field ever more competitive with several pianists—often the more extroverted ones—finding their best in these short pieces: Even his greatest detractors won’t deny the success of Pogorelich’s recording. Christian Zacharias made a name for himself not the least with his Scarlatti on EMI (just boxed and re-released)—and continues to record more of it on MDG. Naxos had a wonderful idea of sourcing the 555+ sonatas out to a different pianist for each disc they add to their continuing survey, most of which is prime stuff. My very favorite, finally, is the two disc set of Mikhail Pletnev (Virgin Classics); one of my over all favorite CDs—perhaps the disc I’ve listened more often to than any other. That’s strong competition, but Tharaud sweeps aside any notion of competition. Not on ‘superiority’, if there were such a thing, but on account of how the recording exudes and oozes so much personality.
In person, Tharaud appears a friendly, weary, incredibly gentle and soft-spoken musician. A pale young man, the lines on whose boyish face betray his real age (42), he comes across as someone who needs to avoid conflict and agitation… he even seems fragile, bordering frail: A type that must immediately kindle the mother-hen instinct in any remotely sensitive person. Sometimes that comes through in his playing—in that utmost sensitive take of the D-minor Sonata Kk.32, for example. [See sample below, compared to the same sonata played on the harpsichord by Scott Ross (Warner).]