This album is titled Madeleine Forte & Del Parkinson Duo-Pianists: Hungarian Program Live 1993. The review complements that of the Forte-Nádas Duo’s program of Debussy, Schubert, Mozart, and Bach (see reviews by myself, Ken Meltzer and an interview with Madeleine Forte by Robert Schulslaper in Fanfare 48:1). In that interview, Forte describes how she met her musical partner on the present disc, Del Parkinson, at Boise State University; in the Fanfare interview, she talks of Parkinson’s “straightforward American vitality,” how this was a long-running collaboration, and how the Californian composer Brent Pierce wrote music for them. Also in the interview, and on a more personal note, she speaks in the interview of the death and final years of her husband, the truly great music theorist Allen Forte, a gentleman whose contributions to music theory were and remain immense. His Structure of Atonal Music, or “stram,” as we used to call it, changed my way of thinking about post-tonal music, and a lecture given by Professor Forte at OXMAC—Oxford Music Analysis Conference—in 1988 will remain forever engraved in my memory. (For those interested, Richmond Browne wrote a full report of the conference in Journal of Music Theory, 33:1.)

Madeleine Forte was a pupil of Kempff, Cortot, Rosina Lhévinne, Zbigniew Drzewiecki, and Yvonne Loriod, and her pedigree is impeccable. The performance of Weiner’s Variations on a Hungarian Folksong is delightful; more, it exudes a sense of understanding of the composer’s own vernacular. As a composer, Leó Weiner (1885–1960) remains underappreciated, despite the efforts of his pupils Georg Solti and Antal Doráti (some older collectors might be familiar with Doráti’s 1957 recording of Weiner’s op. 18 Hungarian Folk Dances). The Variations on a Hungarian Folksong that we hear in this instance is only six minutes long, but holds so much variety. Within the space of a moment, darkness transforms to light; Forte and Parkinson react like one pianistic chameleon, and when the theme is presented simply, the effect is utterly beautiful. The performance is a gift for those who do not as yet know Leó Weiner. The playful light touch from both players towards the close is particularly delicious.

The Bartók is four of a set of seven pieces from Mikrokosmos for piano duo. Forte and Parkinson are incredibly persuasive, principally because of their preternaturally heightened rhythmic sense. Accents cut through as they should; and there is a real sense of abandon in the fiendishly difficult “Perpetuum mobile.” They shift to a far more interior space for the first of the two Images of August 1910 (it’s important to note, perhaps, that this is not the same piece as Two Portraits). Forte/Parkinson find unutterable, poignant depth in the first piece, “In Full Flower”; there is an almost Debussyan fragrance to this performance, peppered, of course, with a Hungarian accent. A rambunctious “Village Dance” concludes the Bartók segment of the program, and it contains some of the most persuasive Bartók performance this writer has heard. The live provenance seems to heighten the experience at every moment; the recording could have more depth, but the value of this performance in particular is undeniable.

The evening ended with three pieces by Liszt. The so-called “Rákóczi March” is spirited and, in its lighter, high-register passages contains a real sense of kittenish play. The performance of Liszt’s sublime “Bénédiction de Dieu dans la solitude” from the Harmonies poétiques et religieuses acts as a maximum contrast and offers a masterclass in legato performance from both pianists; they understand exactly how to sculpt Liszt’s phrases. The final Liszt piece offers a different type of contrast: the magnificent Réminiscences de Don Juan. If some of the immediacy is lost via the recording, it is there in abundance in the performance itself. In spirit, this performance is unbuttoned, yet there is an underlying discipline that makes it an ideal Liszt interpretation. Emphasis on lower sonorities both realizes the daemonic aspects of the work (it is Don Giovanni, after all) as well as reaching across the years as a prophetic pre-echo of the composer’s late style. There was clearly a light, comedic element to the performance (there are audible titters from the audience), and while the live element coupled with Liszt’s fiendish demands occasionally takes a slight toll, the brightness of the piece’s close is sheer brilliance

This is a beautifully constructed program, full of vim and verve, shot through with irrepressible spirit.

Colin Clarke