Préludes pour piano

Description

This centenary of Claude Debussy's passing is certainly full of surprises: immersed in the defense and illustration of Francis Poulenc's piano, at home in the elliptical mysteries of Erik Satie, Eloïse Bella Kohn enters the First Book of Préludes with a measured step: we see her "Danseuses de Delphes," as we will count with her "Des pas sur la neige," a precise piano that describes as much as it evokes, daring ample tempos everywhere, knowing that Debussy's harmony benefits from illuminating its mysteries. This bare keyboard, very much in the spotlight, is quite unique here, as it never claims objectivity; it sometimes yields to the deviations demanded by "What the West Wind Saw," a settled storm that dissolves into sequences: the advantage is that we "see" everything from Debussy's text even if the successive piling of gusts does not create the expected tsunami. Trivial. The pianist's approach aligns even more with the Second Book, which she pulls toward abstraction, seeking pure lines, bringing a clear light that illuminates "Brouillards," giving a Ravelian dimension to Ondine as if played in an American night. At the end of the journey, "Les Tierces alternées," "Feux d'artifice" are no longer "Préludes" at all, but sketches for an unfinished painting, abstractions by default, a singular vision, embraced, that deserves to be heard, but in a strange way nonetheless; I wonder what it would yield if applied to "Images," to "Estampes"… (Discophilia - Artalinna.com) (Jean-Charles Hoffelé)