The two books of Preludes, one on each CD, are the main works here, and the inclusion of other important Debussy is generous. If you’re thinking of collecting all Debussy’s piano music, one of the attractions of this set will be the booklet-essay by Roger Nichols, which is succinct and penetrating and says something about nearly everything. But be warned: the annotations follow the pieces in order of composition whereas Decca’s distribution of them, over the two discs, is higgledy-piggledy. If you want to read and listen chronologically you have to dodge about.
At his best, Thibaudet is satisfying in the Preludes. His control of quiet dynamics and sonorities in “Feuilles mortes” (first disc, track 2) and “Des pas sur la neige” (first disc, track 6) is superfine and marks him out as a player of class. Technically, he is exceptionally cultivated and his virtuosity can be thrilling when mercurial successions of colour and rapid movement exert a special challenge. The quick numbers in Book 2 are mostly very successful, especially “Les fees sont d’exquises danseuses” and “Ondine” (second disc, tracks 4 and 8). If you try all these I think you’ll like what you hear. But there is a nerviness too, which you could sample at the beginning of “Les tierces alternees”, where Thibaudet goes off like a hare at the marking un peu plus anime; and “Feux d’artifice”, though wonderfully well executed, leaves the impression of being a rather telescoped, briefer display than usual. Am I being pedantic? Well, you’d never have guessed that these two Preludes (second disc, tracks 11 and 12) are marked only Moderement anime. Comparison with Michelangeli – half a minute longer in the first, which is a lot in a short piece – shows, I think, that the composer knew best. Thibaudet diminishes “Les tierces alternees”, in particular, by hotting it up.
He uses his manipulative skills and finger-readiness at times to carry the day. I object because the allure is not of the right kind. “Jardins sous la pluie” from Estampes is a particular disappointment – as in many of the brilliant pieces, he turns it into a toccata. My dissatisfaction derives not from the paciness or the woodpeckerish brittleness of manner but from the fact that his fingers aren’t saying very much. Even the last movement of Pour le piano, which actually is a toccata, sounds ordinary, undifferentiated.
Thibaudet is definitely at his best in the Preludes. His concern not to miss any of Debussy’s indicated nuances of dynamics, movement and colour is admirable, even if the manner in which he interprets the indications can sometimes seem a bit literal, impeding the way he gets from one thing to another. Oh dear, how difficult this music is! There are a number of accounts of pianists of the day finding Debussy himself very hard to please – as regards sound, exactitude of rhythm, phrasing, everything. And then, on top of his demands, he would expect the interpreter to abandon himself completely and “let the music do as it will with you – be a vessel through which it passes”. A tall order, at once slightly unreasonable and understandable – one knows what he meant. It is perhaps from this lofty viewpoint that Thibaudet’s achievement cannot be seen as something to shout about. There are plenty of reasonably good, well-made Debussy piano discs in the catalogue of which the same might be said.
Next time I hope Decca can provide an instrument with a better bass. Anything struck with force in the lowest register, like the bottom C in “La cathedrale engloutie”, is too much thud and too little resonance. I am still bothered by this in several places. '