Cage's prepared piano music stands to gain dramatically from the technology of digital recording and Compact Disc (his 4'33'' even more so, some might say). The fewer the distractions, the more enticing its one-man-Balinese-orchestra effect becomes. However, the difference in sound-quality between this new CD-only issue and previous LP versions of the Sonatas and Interludes is actually not that great. The Denon recording is of fairly early digital vintage (December 1975) and the slight background noise (not so slight in Sonatas Nos. 5 to 8) gives the impression of an average LP pressing. Furthermore Takahashi's instrument produces a less varied and attractive sound than John Tilbury's LP on Decca (HEAD9, 11/76)—although the 'preparations' are meticulously specified in the score, their effect depends to some extent on the construction of the piano and on the acoustic. Tilbury admits to taking small licences with the preparation and this, combined with what sounds like a more finely graded touch, produces a greater range and subtlety of timbre than Takahashi commands. Both are superior to Gerard Fremy's LP on Etcetera (ETC2001, 12/83) whose playing is rather tiresomely emphatic.
Still, no one encountering the prepared piano for the first time is likely to be disappointed by the music, whichever performance they choose. The exotic soundscape of the Sonatas and Interludes is still remarkable, nearly 40 years after they were composed. My own favourite is the second half of sonata No. 12—an ecstatic ritual/procession with an unusually large proportion of unprepared sounds mixed in with the background of drums, gongs, tambourines and bells.
Admittedly one may fail to register what Cage called the ''permanent emotions'' of Indian tradition (including the erotic, the mirthful and the odious); and at 60'21'' the 16 Sonatas and four Interludes are a bit much for one sitting. But then the biggest bonus of the CD format is the possibility of selecting any number of excerpts for listening in perfect tranquility.'