George Crumb’s 1972/73 Makrokosmos Books 1 and 2 made innovative use of amplification and extended piano techniques both inside and outside of the instrument, yet never as ends in themselves, and with the utmost specificity of means and expression. The same can be said of Crumb’s Metamorphoses Book 1, written between 2015 and 2017 to showcase Margaret Leng Tan’s extended piano technique mastery, along with her toy piano virtuosity and penchant for vocal theatrics.

The 10 movements draw inspiration from favourite paintings. ‘Perilous Night’, for example, takes its cue from Jasper Johns’s painting of the same name, and features fast and subtly shifting aggregates of single notes punctuated by strumming and scraping gestures on the piano soundboard’s lower strings. In ‘The Persistence of Memory’, Crumb’s ‘shadowy, dreamy’ directive musically mirrors Salvador Dalí’s melting wristwatches set in a desolate landscapes. The score contains common pitches that are alternately plucked and hammered, along with fleeting quotes from Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto, Beethoven’s Piano Sonata Op 110 and ‘Amazing Grace’. Evocations of a violin’s open strings together with tremolos that flicker like fireflies characterise Marc Chagall’s The Fiddler. On the other hand, I doubt that Vincent Van Gogh would have imagined the sound world of ‘Crows over the Wheatfield’ consisting of percussive gestures, long resonances and vocal interjections.

It takes a special kind of pianist to coordinate, integrate and internalise the kind of performance multitasking that Crumb habitually demands. As such, the impressive fluidity and sense of atmosphere distinguishing Margaret Leng Tan’s live premiere performance (Mode Records) cannot be denied. Under studio conditions, however, Marcantonio Barone enjoys built-in advantages. In ‘Contes barbares’ (after Paul Klee), Barone is able to go back and forth between rapid muted gestures and text declamation with greater animation and force. Drier ambience and closer microphone placement impart a more incisive and biting edge to the asymmetrical, neo-Bartókian passages, although Tan’s cumulative sweep packs quite a wallop. While Barone captures the Nocturne’s painstakingly calibrated dynamic gradations, somehow Tan’s long lines take on more of a floating cantabile quality.

Since Tan and Barone both worked closely with the composer and earned his proverbial seal of approval, I hesitate recommending one recording over the other, for these musicians complement one another. Crumb’s 1962 Five Piano Pieces fill out the Mode disc, while Bridge offers the Metamorphoses alone, resulting in a CD with a relatively short playing time. Yet I won’t complain, given the potent combination of Crumb’s undiminished genius and Barone’s accomplished artistry.