Bruce Liu’s new album of music by Satie raises important questions about the relationship between performer and instrument. Does the sound of a particular instrument affect a performer’s interpretation? Would the same piece played on two different pianos by the same performer yield markedly different results?

Following on from the pianist’s acclaimed debut album of music by Rameau, Ravel and Alkan (1/24), this digital-only mini-album comprises two performances of Erik Satie’s six enigmatic Gnossiennes: the first set played on a standard grand piano and the second on an upright instrument. Despite marked differences in timbre between these two instruments – the grand bright and reverberant, the upright much softer and more subdued – Liu’s approach remains consistent. Perhaps this is not unexpected given that most performers possess clear ideas about the music they play, whatever the instrument. Nevertheless, subtle differences appear when pairs of Gnossiennes are placed side by side. Take tempo, for example. In general, Liu’s tempos are not as brisk as Chamayou (Erato, 12/23) or Ogawa (BIS, 8/16), but certainly more fleet-footed than sluggish, ponderous Schleiermacher (MDG).

Interestingly, the upright piano versions are generally shorter in length. Given Liu’s established Chopin credentials, it comes as no surprise to hear him add pronounced dollops of rubato to Satie’s pieces, pushing and pulling tempos here and there, and bringing out the rhythmic independence of the melodic line in the right hand against the left’s simple accompaniment.

There are parallels with Pascal Rogé’s recording of the same set (Decca, 6/84), although the latter’s tempo fluctuations align more closely with Satie’s structural divisions. At times, Liu’s shifting tempos are subjective and unpredictable. Take the middle section of the third Gnossienne, for example. By this point, Satie’s opening six note melody has generated a sinuous 34-note line through a gradual process of melodic expansion, yet Liu impatiently speeds through the passage without much regard for the music’s development and continuity. Liu’s rubato-heavy approach is more effective in the florid, ornamental fifth Gnossienne, where delicate filigree lines are executed with balance and poise. The upright version works particularly well in this regard, where the shimmering quality of the melodic line is counterbalanced by a more restrained and softer-sounding left hand.

Certainly, Liu’s decision to include two recordings of the same music is part of a general shift towards performing ‘standard’ repertoire on (often creaky) upright pianos, as heard on Víkingur Ólafsson’s ‘From Afar’ (DG, 11/22). In any case, this seems to work better in relation to new music that occupies more obvious ambient and ‘easy-listening’ qualities, such as Isshi Matsuriza, Jacob David, Nicolae Moldoveanu or Ólafur Arnalds, although Satie could certainly be hailed as an important precursor to that trend as well.