French
Bartók? Isn't that a contradiction in terms? After all, doesn't French mean smooth, refined, and elegant? And doesn't
Bartók mean raw, angular, and brutal? Yes and no. French, modernist French, can also mean hard, harsh, and edgy, and
Bartók, at least some
Bartók, can also mean cool, considered, and concentrated. In this two-disc set of piano music recorded between 1974 and 1976, French modernist piano player
Michel Béroff meets Hungarian modernist composer
Bartók, and, perhaps to the amazement of some, finds common ground.
Béroff's tone is big, his touch is muscular, and his sense of rhythm is rock solid, all qualities that fit
Bartók to a T. Listen to
Béroff launch into the sets of Romanian, Hungarian, and Bulgarian dances that start off the set, listen to his fierce attacks, his keen accents, and his propulsive rhythms: is this not
Bartók playing of the first rank? Then listen to
Béroff tear into the sonata and the sonatina that follows, listen to his masterful sforzandos, his magisterial cross-rhythms, and his complete command of asymmetrical form: is this not
Bartók playing of the highest order? And while it's true the
Béroff may come down a bit too hard on the Ten Easy Pieces and the selections from For Children, no one could debate his intensity or his dedication. For listeners used to Hungarian pianists playing
Bartók,
Béroff may seem perhaps too French at first, but anyone with a fondness for the Hungarian composer will surely come to appreciate
Béroff's virtuoso technique and his modernist approach. EMI's late stereo recordings are clear, warm, and honest.