This Etude appeared in 1840 in the second part of a large three-part publication entitled Encyclopédie du Pianiste Compositeur by Alkan’s former professor, Pierre Zimmerman (1785-1853), comprising elementary instruction, exercises and études together with theoretical guidance. The second part comprises music old and new together with études from the author himself, Alkan, Carl Czerny (1791-1857), Emile Prudent (1817-1863) and Henri Ravina (1818-1906). Zimmerman could not possibly have passed up the opportunity to commission a new étude from his favourite pupil for inclusion and Alkan’s contribution to the set is, by far, the most striking. From beginning to end, it is wrought almost entirely from an interlocking chordal device, the rhythm of which might best be described as a paradiddle which, at the tempo marking of allegro molto, makes for a rather bruising study in chord playing.
In the key of A minor, the paradiddle rhythm is established from the outset with an introductory dominant note hammered out between the hands before the theme gets underway. A contrasting central section in the tonic major offers brief respite where a truncated version of the paradiddle rhythm obsesses over a dominant pedal note before a chordal iteration of the introductory passage signals the reprise, short-circuiting to a brief coda and spurring the étude on to its clamorous close. The effect of the thing is so screamingly outrageous and, like so much of Alkan’s music, so far ahead of its time, that it would be better suited to an Ibizan rave in the twenty-first century rather than the Paris salon of the nineteenth and, indeed, the present writer knows of not one person who hasn’t doubled over in amazement and incredulity upon hearing it.
This Etude appeared in 1840 in the second part of a large three-part publication entitled Encyclopédie du Pianiste Compositeur by Alkan’s former professor, Pierre Zimmerman (1785-1853), comprising elementary instruction, exercises and études together with theoretical guidance. The second part comprises music old and new together with études from the author himself, Alkan, Carl Czerny (1791-1857), Emile Prudent (1817-1863) and Henri Ravina (1818-1906). Zimmerman could not possibly have passed up the opportunity to commission a new étude from his favourite pupil for inclusion and Alkan’s contribution to the set is, by far, the most striking. From beginning to end, it is wrought almost entirely from an interlocking chordal device, the rhythm of which might best be described as a paradiddle which, at the tempo marking of allegro molto, makes for a rather bruising study in chord playing.
In the key of A minor, the paradiddle rhythm is established from the outset with an introductory dominant note hammered out between the hands before the theme gets underway. A contrasting central section in the tonic major offers brief respite where a truncated version of the paradiddle rhythm obsesses over a dominant pedal note before a chordal iteration of the introductory passage signals the reprise, short-circuiting to a brief coda and spurring the étude on to its clamorous close. The effect of the thing is so screamingly outrageous and, like so much of Alkan’s music, so far ahead of its time, that it would be better suited to an Ibizan rave in the twenty-first century rather than the Paris salon of the nineteenth and, indeed, the present writer knows of not one person who hasn’t doubled over in amazement and incredulity upon hearing it.
- Mark Viner
Join the Alkan Society and be the first to know about new recordings, research, and publications of his music: http://www.alkansociety.org/Join-us/join-us.htmlJoseph Nolan on Recording Alkans Complete Organ MusicThe Alkan Society2025-03-06 | Organist Joseph Nolan discusses his recently completed project to record Alkan's complete organ works.Stephanie McCallum discusses Alkan and the art of playing his music on historical pianosThe Alkan Society2024-07-31 | Alkan Society President Stephanie McCallum joined the Society's Social Media Editor, Bradley Berg, for an enlightening discussion of her extensive Alkan discography and the art of interpreting Charles-Valentin Alkan's music on period instruments.Mark Viner discusses Alkan’s “Character Pieces and Grotesqueries”The Alkan Society2024-01-07 | Join Alkan Society Chairman Mark Viner and the Society’s Social Media Editor Bradley Berg for a fascinating conversation about the repertoire on Mark’s latest Alkan CD, “Character Pieces and Grotesqueries,” from the Piano Classics label.Pianist Mark Viner on Volume 5 of his Complete Alkan Piano Works ProjectThe Alkan Society2023-10-20 | Join Alkan Society Chairman, Mark Viner, and Alkan Society Social Media Editor, Bradley Berg, as they discuss Mark's recent recording of some Alkan rarities: 11 Pieces dans le style religieux et un transcription du Messie de Handel, Op. 72, Étude alla barbaro, and Étude WoO in A minor. All featured recordings can be heard on the Alkan Society YouTube channel and purchased from the Piano Classics website: piano-classics.com
Mark Viner, piano Recordings courtesy of Piano ClassicsCharles-Valentin Alkan - 3 Marches for piano four hands, Op. 40The Alkan Society2023-06-21 | Goldstone and Clemmow, piano duet
00:00 No. 1 in A-flat Major: Allegro 08:31 No. 2 in C Minor - E-flat Major: Allegro Moderato 14:46 No. 3 in B-flat Major: Modérément
NOTE: It is not always possible to exactly align the primo and secondo parts onto one screen due to them being published as separate parts on opposing pages. Every effort has been made to align them where possible for the viewer. It is hoped that the experience of reading both parts of Alkan's richly detailed score in its original engraving is rewarding enough to justify the occasional awkward arrangements on screen.
Published in 1857 at the height of Alkan's mature style, the op. 40 marches for piano duet evince the complete harmonic control and rhythmic invention that the composer possessed as a leading acolyte of the contemporary French musical school. From simple, almost thoughtless-sounding material, Alkan wrings forth one variation after the next with such detailed shadings in each part that, despite frequently repeated sections, the music never overstays its welcome. Rather, it delights with each subsequent rendition of its themes as they mutate through comic barbs, persistent offbeat accents, and percussive appoggiaturas. Call-and-response episodes and a stereoscopic treatment of the keyboard reveal Alkan's vivid technique for orchestrating the piano.
The march was a popular nineteenth-century genre, more fit for parades and theatrical productions rather than recital rooms or orchestral halls (excluding the more serious funeral march subgenre, which Beethoven helped introduce into the symphony). Yet Alkan remained fascinated by the march genre throughout his decades-long career, adapting its foursquare formula to concoct any number of fine musical solutions at the piano. In Alkan's hands, a march could be stiff and acerbic just as easily as it could be sweet and melodious; it could equally take the form of a heartfelt eulogy or a carefree promenade, a farcical sketch, an esoteric vision, or an exotic roulade.
In the op. 40 Marches, we find Alkan at his most witty and playful. Here, he can hardly keep his tangential imagination at bay for long. Just when you feel that you are on firm ground, the pace will quicken, the character will transform, or the atmosphere will descend into an ephemeral "twilight fantasy" (as Ronald Smith once described a moment from the Trio of the Sonatine, mvt. III). This is vintage Alkan.C.V. Alkan - 11 Pièces dans le style religieux et 1 transcription du Messie de Haendel, Op.72The Alkan Society2022-06-17 | Mark Viner, piano
The 11 Pièces dans le style religieux et 1 transcription du Messie de Hændel, Op.72 first appeared in 1867 with a dedication to the recently deceased publisher, Simon Richault (1780-1866) who issued the majority of Alkan’s music, in the wake of two other great sets of similar pieces, the 13 Prières, Op.64 (1865), the 11 Grands Préludes et 1 transcription du Messie de Hændel, Op.66 (1867), both scored for pedal-piano. Their dedication to the recently deceased publisher, Simon Richault (1780-1866) who issued the majority of Alkan’s music. Their atmosphere and design in many ways harken back to the grave passion instilled in the earlier 25 Préludes dans tous les tons majeurs et mineurs, Op.31 (1847) whose scoring is, similarly, for piano or organ but not pedal-piano. As such, it is probably no accident that the set in question was conceived for either organ, harmonium or piano and, incidentally, this recording witnesses them presented on the piano for the first time. Like much of Alkan’s later music, the writing is of a more conservative idiom, shorn of excess and in which it seems not a note is wasted while the harmonic language is often laced with vintage piquancies that characterise so much of his later output.
Like the aforementioned sets Opp.64 & 66, the majority of these pieces also seem to share a similar structure in which two ideas, some more contrasting than others, are stated and then juxtaposed against one another before a reconciliation where the two ideas are superimposed or intrinsic relationships are spelled out. It is perhaps in this light that the title of the set might best be interpreted. Dans le style religieux’ - (‘in the religious style’) isn’t necessarily and allusion to character here - indeed, some of these pieces are, at times, somewhat fierce in manner – but rather the philosophical message conveyed through the dialogue within them: the contrasting ideas and contradictory statements perhaps an allegory of man’s grappling with temptation; their eventual reconciliation a metaphor for his subsequent redemption. After all, the deeper meaning of the word ‘religion’ is not ‘devotion’ or ‘worship’ but ‘reconnection’. Not all of these pieces close with a reconciliation of themes, however, and a few of them end very bleakly, indeed, indicating a more conspicuous preoccupation with the human condition than their title suggests.
The discovery of the Etude Alla-Barbaro came as a complete surprise when it was stumbled upon by the French-Canadian pianist, Marc-André Hamelin (b.1961) on the 14th August, 1995, within the archive of Raymond Lewenthal (1923-1988) held at the International Piano Archive in Maryland, USA. There exists no catalogue listing of it nor a single mention of it anywhere yet it was, indeed, published. The copy found among Lewenthal’s effects was an extremely grainy photostat of the original edition accompanied by an insightful typewritten preface from Lewenthal himself with which he had evidently intended to republish the work. This photostat is the sole testimony to the work’s existence: the original has not resurfaced nor do we know where Lewenthal made the photostat. The publisher of this first edition reads as Nowinski on the title page with a further seller’s stamp reading Th. Nowinski | Graveur | De Musique. We can be confident this was a certain Thomas Nowinski, born in the palatinate of Krakov, who came to Paris and had some success as an engraver having developed a novel printing process by which he transferred the printed score to the page via sheets of zinc rather than tin thus cutting costs substantially. He later published an album for piano and voice entitled Union musicale which was issued in instalments and it is almost certain that the Etude Alla-Barbaro formed part of its contents. Aside from the this, the ambiguous inclusion of ‘No.5’ at the bottom of the title page suggests the piece was published as part of a series. Whether there might have been accompanying works by Alkan remains to be seen but the possibility is a tantalising one. Quite why Lewenthal never succeeded in republishing the piece we don’t know but, happily, it was reengraved by Billaudot in 2000 and, more recently, by Muse Press, comprising Lewenthal’s entertaining and insightful preface in 2019.
Connoisseurs of Alkan’s music will already be familiar with his excursions into the barbaro genre: the fifth of the Douze Etudes dans tous les tons majeurs, Op.35 (1848), Allegro barbaro, also in the key of F major, and the finale of the Concerto for solo piano, Allegretto alla barbaresca, which forms the tenth of the Douze Etudes dans tous les tons mineurs, Op.39 (1857) being famous examples, yet, as Alkan seldom repeats himself, this particular foray behaves like neither. Its principal material is fashioned from chords alternating between the hands where the melody is passed between the thumbs and clad with bristling chordal acciaccature: a device which, Lewenthal points out, was used in an earlier piece entitled L’hallali – (a whoop or hunting cry) which forms the ninth piece, ascribed to the month of September, in the set of Les Mois, 12 morceaux caractéristiques (1838), later misleadingly listed as Op.74 by subsequent publishers. The other parallel Lewenthal draws is the second of Béla Bartók’s (1881-1945) Burlesques, Sz.47 (1912) entitled ‘a little tipsy…’ and again, this is intriguing as given the extreme rarity of this piece it is highly unlikely that Bartók was ever aware of its existence yet witness the effect the other more famous contender of the barbaro genre, the Allegro barbaro from the Douze Etudes dans tous les tons majeurs, Op.35, clearly had on him when, in 1911, he came to pen his own Allegro barbaro, Sz.49 (1918) after having undoubtedly heard the piece from Ferrucio Busoni (1866-1924) in the latter’s Berlin recitals.
Opening with an introductory seven bars and with the tempo marking allegro, it launches into its main theme, marked énergique et résolu – (energetic and resolute). A sudden lurch back to the motoric ‘hunting’ rhythm of the opening signals a change in character as coruscating right hand figurations intensify the rhetoric. Arching to a blazing reinstatement of the main theme and underpinned by the ever pulverising ‘hunting’ rhythm of the left hand, it navigates some raucous seven-note clusters before a sequence of unrelated ideas spirals out of control. A clamorous salvo of descending octaves leads to a brief return to the writing of the opening before a mock-military clarion fans out into an ascending arpeggio figuration of blind octaves anchoring, at their summit, on the dominant note of the home key before petering out in their descent. A return to the main theme lands on a false chord of G flat major with the added dissonance of a seventh before it rounds itself off resolutely, its bristling chordal acciaccature screamingly displaced at a distance of two octaves. Brash, vociferous, and utterly uncompromising, it will find little sympathy among those seeking a cosier breed of romanticism yet it remains utterly arresting, unique and decades ahead of its time.Charles-Valentin Alkan – 8 Prières, Op. 64 (arr. Vianna da Motta)The Alkan Society2021-12-19 | Vincenzo Maltempo, piano
*NOTE: Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813–1888) originally composed the music in this video for the pédalier or pedal-piano (a piano with foot-pedals in addition to the standard keyboard). In the early twentieth century, the Portuguese composer José Vianna da Motta (1868–1948) transcribed much of Alkan’s pédalier music into piano duo, duet, and solo arrangements. The score featured in this video comes from Vianna da Motta’s solo piano version of Op. 64, with the exception of the last page (starting at 32:28), which is missing in the only available IMSLP scan. The music shown from 32:28 on is from Alkan’s original pedal-piano version.
Program notes by Malcolm MacDonald:
“The set of 13 Prières, Op. 64, certainly stands among Alkan’s most intensely personal works. Published around 1866, it bears the dedication ‘À la mémoire de Pierre Érard (1796-1855),’ the managing director of the Paris piano firm whom Alkan had known for many years and who was presumably responsible for originally placing the pédalier at Alkan’s disposal. No less a figure than César Franck later transcribed seven of these pieces for organ. Vianna da Motta’s version of 8 Prières (Nos. 1, 2, 3, 7, 8, 9, 11, and 12 in Alkan’s numbering) is the earliest of his Alkan transcriptions, dating from 1901. Alkan himself indicated that an extra pair of hands could take the pedal parts if there were no pedals, but Vianna da Motta clearly scorns this makeshift solution: in the much later and more detailed preface he provided for his arrangement of the Préludes [Op. 66], he comments that ‘the most delicate and most intimate of these pieces demand performance by a single person.’ Some of his solutions – which entail a good deal of octave doubling, and often require the left hand to become a kind of amalgam of Alkan’s left-hand and pedal parts – have been criticised by Ronald Smith, despite their ingenuity, for attempting the impossible. Nevertheless, in performances as sensitive and convincing as those on the present CD, it is possible to claim that da Motta’s transcriptions have a strong effectiveness of their own.”
“The opening piece [0:11], in a modally inflected G major that keeps the music poised between that key and C minor, immediately establishes an exalted mood, caused especially by the repetitions of the chant-like figure which answers the opening descending motif. It is followed by a serene three-part invention in A major with an almost Schubertian principal melody [3:32] interrupted at one point by severe block chords. The delightfully lyric and the hint of religious fervour are here deftly combined. The magnificent third Prière in B minor [6:21] presents a Hebraic melody sounding out from deep, resonating depths (and shared between the hands as da Motta elevates the roiling tremolando accompaniment to the upper registers). It builds to a dramatic climax, suddenly cut off, the key changing to E major in the mysteriously triumphant coda. The next piece [10:23] alternates an altogether more extrovertly triumphant C major Maestoso music with an initially quiet chorale with celestial right-hand accompaniment. The feeling of grandeur accumulates as both elements are developed, intensified and aggrandised through a majestic progression of textures and thematic developments. Titled in Latin (Deus Sabaoth), Hebrew and French, the fifth Prière [17:45] is in fact a highly contrapuntal march with obvious accompanying fanfares – revealed in the ‘quasi trombe’ indications near the closing bars. To this the following E major Andantino (marked Doucement) [20:34] provides a complete contrast: a fragrantly melodious piece, with bell-effects as we approach the peaceful coda. The seventh piece is another Andantino, with the expression-mark Ingenuamente (ingenuous) [24:35]. With its lulling rhythm and infectious tune this label seems at first an adequate description, though the next section, with its dry off-beat chords, challenges it somewhat. In the final stages of the movement a new, noble tune stands out against the prevailing rhythm and brings some surprisingly grandiose developments to this initially innocent-sounding piece. The final Allegretto in F [30:15] is reminiscent of some of Alkan’s near-contemporary piano Esquisses, Op. 63, where what seems an old-fashioned dance-tune is intermingled with hints of a march. In the coda the main tune is silenced with a resonant, mysterious and self-destructing carillon.”
Join the Alkan Society: http://www.alkansociety.org/Join-us/join-us.htmlCharles-Valentin Alkan - Deuxième recueil de chants, Op. 38b [1857] (McCallum)The Alkan Society2021-09-22 | Op. 38b, Deuxième recueil de chants (1857) No. 1 Hymne in E major (0:00) No. 2 Allegretto ("Fa") in A minor (5:10) No. 3 Chant de Guerre in A major (8:26) No. 4 Procession-Nocturne in A major (12:10) No. 5 Andantino in F♯ minor (15:56) No. 6 Barcarolle en chœur in G minor (21:46)
Text: Sicut cervus desiderat ad fontes aquarum, ita desiderat anima mea ad te Deus. [As a deer longs for flowing streams, so my soul longs for you, O God].
Join the Alkan Society: http://www.alkansociety.org/Join-us/join-us.htmlCharles-Valentin Alkan – Impromptu sur le Choral de Luther, Op. 69 (arr. Smalley)The Alkan Society2021-02-22 | Alkan – Impromptu sur le Choral de Luther ‘Un fort rempart est Notre Dieu’, Op. 69 (arr. for two pianos by Roger Smalley)
Goldstone and Clemmow, piano duo
*NOTE* The sheet music in this video is from Alkan's original version for pedal-piano or piano three hands. Smalley's version for two pianos, heard in this recording, features many doubled octaves along with other minor changes, but the overall shape of the piece remains intact.
Trois Marches quasi da cavalleria, Op.37 No.1 Molto allegro (0:00) No.2 Allegro vivace* (5:08) No.3 Allegro* (9:43)
*First recordings
Alkan’s Trois Marches quasi da cavalleria, Op.37 – (Three Cavalry marches) appeared in 1857 when they were published by Richault alongside a host of other works comprising some of his very finest music. They were dedicated to the French soldier and politician, Gustave Olivier Lannes, Comte de Montebello (1804-1875) and are presented here for the first time in their entirety on disc: the second and third of the three being first recordings.
The first, like the second and third of the set, is in ternary form and is an archetype of Alkan’s uncanny ability to harness such modest musical material to sinister effect. In the key of A minor and marked Molto allegro, the theme of the first march is wrought entirely from a mere three-note oscillation which, reshuffled at each iteration and governed by a relentless ostinato, proves a catalyst of unexpected and disturbing power. A slapstick trio in F major, complete with a blaring fanfare, then ensues before giving way to a more lyrical episode featuring a Neapolitan colouring over a grinding tonic pedal note. The mock-military fanfare then returns and peters out before the reprise of the opening march. Now a shadow of its former self, the three-note oscillation takes on a more sinister aspect. No longer in clean-cut octaves, it grinds against an obstinate low C deep in the bass, engendering a gravelly, rugged timbre. While postulating the limited compass of Alkan’s instrument as a possible reason for this curious voicing, Ronald Smith (1922-2004) rightly cautions against the temptation to rewrite this passage in octaves; its effect being far more original than mere octaves could muster. But by 1857, Alkan was in full possession of the three bottom bass notes on the piano, which were added by the Erard firm a decade earlier, testifying that the writing was, indeed, a conscious decision rather than a compromise in view of a limited compass. Bypassing the previous sequence of events, the music short-circuits to a vociferous interpolation in B flat major no sooner than to be cut short by an incessant pile-up of triplets in chains of thirds and sixths underpinned by a twelve-fold iteration of that self-same ostinato. Driven by the same single-minded impetus, it mounts, as implacable as fate, to its inexorable close.
The second of the set, marked Allegro vivace and also in A minor, is just about the most obstinately four-square thing Alkan ever wrote. Like its companion pieces, it is in ternary form, comprising a trio, and is rounded off with a robust coda based on ideas from the latter. The opening section, anchored stubbornly in the home key of A minor, requires all the conviction in the world to raise it from mere flat-footed pomposity and, together with its mock-musique militaire and brash vociferousness, it very nearly takes off. It is rescued from the brink of banality by a quizzical trio in the tonic major where the hands are stacked one above the other and the right must sustain a legato melody while the left hops hither and thither in staccato triplets around it - quite impossible to play as written, what with shared notes and the human hand being as it is and as a result, demands considerable redistribution. A truncated reprise of the first section witnesses the main theme declaimed with greater vigour the second time round where it is clad with thorny flourishes before the coda ensues. Comprising ideas harvested from the trio and briefly taking on a more heroic aspect, it runs its course, stony-faced, to its grim close.
In stark contrast to its companions, the third, marked Allegro, is the more whimsical of the set. In the contrasting key of C minor, its neat, straight-laced writing and rhythmic obstinacy brings to mind Schubert’s forays into the march genre. Like its siblings, it is in ternary form where the main section is interpolated by a central trio before a closing coda. With disarming grace, the chattering opening section tiptoes quaintly through a host of different keys, each iteration with a variant here and there, be it a different voicing or a mildly chromatic tinge. The trio, rooted in the home key, then ensues and is of the variety that knows precisely where it is going; its click-clack symmetry and guarded step momentarily interrupted by an assault of brusque octaves which caution us against becoming too comfortable. The truncated reprise is then subjected to a host of crawling variants before a sinister shadow of the trio emerges and peters out when, all at once, a blaring coda based on the opening theme in the tonic major, takes the march by the scruff and summarily rounds things off. –Program notes by Mark VinerMozart/Alkan: Symphony #39 In E Flat, K 543 -3. Menuetto, Trio (López)The Alkan Society2021-02-04 | José Raúl López, piano
"[The piano's] sonorities are wide-ranging if one knows how to obtain them through various methods of attack, through the intelligent use of certain fingerings, hand-crossing, etc. It is this instinct, this tact which guides the intelligent musician when he wants to make the piano reproduce the great magical accents of an orchestra and a choir; which suggests to him at one moment how to combine the chords in a particular way, at another moment to write some part of other at this octave rather than that, to emphasize this, to lighten that; in fact, to use a thousand ingenious methods to arrive not at a mathematical similarity, but a faithful, relative, moral one." –Charles-Valentin Alkan
"The Minuet from the Symphony in E flat major, K543, is among the contents of [Alkan's] first transcription series (Souvenirs des concerts du Conservatoire) that appeared in 1847 and as such is a model lesson in the art as it remains texturally subordinate to the spirit of the orchestration, and yet adjusts it ever so slightly to the registral capabilities of the instrument and, during the da capo repeat, takes the creative initiative to vary the presentation of the material. It is in the Trio, again, where Alkan's mastery manifests itself: amidst the lovingly placed slurs and staccato marks, Alkan further clarifies the orchestration by suggesting a necessary change in dynamic levels and the addition of the una corda pedal to produce an echo effect, distinguishing the timbral differentiation between clarinet and flute (1:56-2:08). The da capo repeat, as noted previously, is cleverly enhanced through the addition of octaves and filled-in chords, producing an added masculine grandeur." –program notes by José Raúl López
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