Reaction to Moszkowski’s glamorous salon success was swift and unforgiving. Suddenly the composer of such charmers as Valse mignonne and the Op. 36 “En Automne” and “Etincelles” was seen as decadently addicted to outmoded nineteenth-century ideals. The spirit of adventure exemplified by Scriabin, Schoenberg, Debussy and Satie was in the ascendant and so Moszkowski, once adored but now neglected, was lowered to abject poverty and reduced to smoking the stuffing from his own sofa.
Today we can take a more genial view of a composer who wrote superlatively for his chosen instrument (“after Chopin, Moszkowski best understands how to write for the piano”, claimed Paderewski). Only a puritan could resist “Sur l’eau” from Op. 87, with its open-hearted embrace of picturesque escapism, its refusal of all Angst. The Barcarolle, too, is a real discovery, its alternating languor and passion recalling Faure’s early romantic idealism, its final filigree an affectionate tribute to Chopin. “Complainte” (Op. 87 No. 1) suggests only the gentlest notion of querulousness, yet as one idea streams from another you can’t help but marvel at Moszkowski’s skill, his endless capacity for conversational elegance and brio.
This is the third volume in Seta Tanyel’s enchanted odyssey (previous issues were reviewed in 10/95 and 12/96) and, once again, her performances are of the most engaging insouciance and dexterity. Other specialists in this repertoire (they include Eileen Joyce, Stephen Hough, Shura Cherkassky and Ilana Vered) may play with a more sharply honed or focused virtuosity but time and again Tanyel’s ease and civility make even the slenderest glycerine and rose-water offering delectable. That Moszkowski could engage with darker emotions is amply shown in the second Etude from his Op. 24 (available in Vol. 2, 12/96) but in Vol. 3 whatever sparkles and insinuates is here to seduce and disarm.
Collins’s recordings are exemplary, capturing all of Tanyel’s warmth and fluidity and making Vol. 4 an eagerly anticipated event.'