Composer of nine symphonies, pianist, teacher, director of the conservatory in Buenos Aires until 1941 and initiator of publishing and other ventures, Alberto Williams was a figure of huge significance in the musical life of his native Argentina. In his 90 years (1862-1952) he composed a large quantity of piano music, ranging from modest salonish dances to ambitious multi-movement Poems.
From the first phrase of the First Mazurka, composed in 1884, Valentin Surif shows that he appreciates a novel turn of phrase when he sees it, and in many ways these modest dances are the most attractive feature of this second volume of Williams’s piano works. With its whole-tone tarting-up, the Third Mazurka would probably have appealed to Darius Milhaud. Not that Williams was in any way ahead of his time, but there is something undeniably attractive about his blend of 19th-century European piano styles and Latin American ethnic touches.
Also appealing is the first of the Poetic Pieces of 1890, its attractively swung rhythm reminding us of the crucial role soon to be played by South American music in the history of jazz. By the fourth and last piece, however, Williams has found his way back to a homage, probably unconscious, and certainly less engaging, to Schumann’s first Novellette.
The more ambitious Poems are the least satisfying musically. Poem of the Bells is frankly Debussian in texture, recalling ‘La cathedrale engloutie’, but unlike its model it is slackly composed, especially so in its finale. Poem of the Ravine promises more in its title than it actually delivers, and Poem of the Valley has no more individuality.
For all his rhythmic verve, Surif is not overly concerned with beauty of tone or subtlety of gradation. In fact the basic piano sound is glassy and off-colour, as though the instrument (apparently a Hamburg Steinway) was past its prime. There is a slight change of pitch between some of the tracks. All this is frustrating in a full-price issue, but connoisseurs of out-of-the-way piano music will just have to grin and bear it.'