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The Toccata Terza was composed in 1955 and Sorabji gave the manuscript, along with that of other works, to the American critic Clinton Gray-Fisk, its dedicatee. After Gray-Fisk’s death in 1961, the score vanished until it was found in a private collection in 2019. The pianist and one time biochemist Abel Sánchez-Aguilera then took on the enormous tasks of first preparing a critical typeset edition, then learning this two-hour-plus work. He gave the first performance in the Netherlands in 2022.
In the Sorabji catalogue, two hours is not so long. The Symphonic Variations apparently last ten, while the recently recorded Sequentia Cyclica lasts over eight. I certainly cannot maintain my unbroken attention over such time lengths. I well remember attending John Ogdon’s 1988 performance of Opus Clavicembalisticum and even with the score on my lap, I found my mind wandering, so it is probably just as well that this work is divided into what are just about manageable sections.
There is much to admire in Toccata terza which is overflowing with the usual daunting textural and polyrhythmic complexities that are Sorabji’s trademark. These all have to be played accurately and also coloured, voiced, and pedalled to gain maximum effect. I have often wondered if my drifting in the Ogdon performance was due to the masses of wrong notes and messy execution. As Gray-Fisk wrote of his friend’s music “Even transcendental virtuosi have been known to blanch at the sight of his scores.” Well, our soloist here has clearly not blanched and delivers a performance of enormous clarity and subtlety.
As well as being dedicated to Mr. Gray-Fisk, his initials C, G and F provide a unifying motif throughout the work. It disappears in the heavily chromatic contrapuntal writing but suddenly resurfaces like a life raft in a storm.
The work opens with the C, G, F motif before moving into rapid playful scales covering the whole keyboard. It is less chromatic than the other movements; perhaps the composer is lulling us into a false sense of security. From the off, we know we are in safe hands with Mr Sánchez-Aguilera colouring every note and making every line sound clearly. There is no muddy pedalling or fudging of ideas here.
The second-movement Adagio builds in extreme slow motion from simple, single notes to massive chords that are perfectly voiced. It must have given the engineers some trouble to catch them so beautifully.
The 48-minute Passacaglia, really a work in itself, simply does not hold my interest for even a fraction of its duration. The ending, marked Gigantesco, cannot come soon enough. The following Cadenza with its rapid scales and joyous fanfares appears like a breath of fresh air. However, the fugal fifth movement, a double fugue no less, although undoubtedly a contrapuntal and technical tour de force, was far too dry for my taste. The Corrente, is to the Fugue what the Cadenza was to the Passacaglia: a welcome palate-cleanser. Although not a Baroque dance, it is here a running chain of scales and entirely appropriate to its name.
Movement 7 Fantasia is one of Sorabji’s nocturnes, very much in the style of Le jardin parfumé, or Djami and is utterly entrancing and perfectly proportioned. This is followed by an Interlude which is another glittering, fast, scalic movement punctuated by bitonal arpeggios and chordal interruptions. In Mr Sánchez-Aguilera’s hands it sounds like joy but must be terrifying to play.
The Capriccio is probably the strangest movement. With its pointillist flourishes and use of the sustaining pedal, it sounds, if anything, like early Stockhausen or Boulez. Once again, such is the pianist’s skill in colouring and dynamics that he makes what could be a brutal nightmare a quixotic dream. The final Epilogo-Coda Stretta starts off quietly, sounding like Gershwin, then moves to some massive Messiaen-like hieratic chords before ending not emphatically but posing an enigma.
For some reason I found Sánchez-Aguilera’s premiere recording of the earlier Toccata Seconda (1933-34) more accessible. He is clearly very at home with Sorabji’s aesthetic and hope one day we may have all four of Sorabji’s toccatas on record. The pianist’s very readable liner notes and Piano Classics’ wonderful engineering are to be applauded. The two-disc case uses an image of Breughel’s Tower of Babel and looks stunning.
Paul RW Jackson
Original: https://musicwebinternational.com/2024/06/sorabji-toccata-terza-piano-classics/