Listening to these two discs from Livia Rev, I had the impression that she has known and loved Chopin's Nocturnes for a very long time—long enough to feel able to enjoy them without recourse to special pleading. Because marked by such musical poise as well as pianistic finesse, it's a performance you could live with for ever without a moment's irritation. The recording is as mellow and true as the playing. Like the similarly ingratiating Peter Katin on Olympia/Conifer she presents the 21 pieces in chronological sequence. But as from Ashkenazy (Decca) and Arrau (Philips) there are no extras. Katin alone generously offers Chopin's four Impromptus as well.
Rev's total refusal to sentimentalize these Nocturnes is at once apparent in the early Op. 9 No. 2 in E flat, which here, without untoward rubato and the like, lasts several seconds less than from Ashkenazy and nearly a minute less than from Arrau and Katin. In this and many other contexts her understatement has an eloquence all its own, and incidentally how beautifully she manages the composer's many flights of filigree decoration. That said, I still felt there were times when she takes the unexpected too much for granted—as when not waiting just that split second longer before the surprise turn into the impassioned doppio movimento middle section of Op. 15 No. 2 in F sharp major, or before the totally unpredictable collapse into despair near the end of Op. 32 No. 1 in B major or conversely, even before the last-moment major key resolution of Op. 37 No. 1 in G minor. And how much more keenly Ashkenazy and Arrau take your breath away in that whirlwind eruption towards the end of the serene opening section of Op. 62 No. 1 in B major.
In broader contexts I felt she could have occasionally heightened characterization through sharper tempo contrast—as in the agitato upheavals of the early Op. 9 No. 3 in B major and Op. 15 No. 1 in F major. I also wondered why she chooses a faster rather than slower tempo for the assuaging second subject (marked sostenuto) in Op. 37 No. 2 in G major, why she relaxes rather than increases speed and tension in the doppio movimento reprise of Op. 48 No. 1 in C minor, and why, after so hauntingly sad a start to Op. 48 No. 2 in F sharp minor, she moves into its central molto piu lento with no change of tempo to underline its new major-key message of hope. In sum her response to emotional undertones is not quite as personal or immediate as that of the impressionable Ashkenazy or the hyper-intense closely recorded Arrau. For those who have known and loved these Nocturnes as long as she her poetic restraint might even be preferable. Newcomers, on the other hand, may want a few more pointers to help them on their way.
Though traditionally dog doesn't eat dog, I'm compelled to add that the patronizing evaluations of these pieces in the accompanying booklet (particularly Chopin's heart-renderingly bitter-sweet E major farewell to the genre) sometimes made me wince on the composer's behalf. Nor do Hyperion exactly cover themselves in glory by titling Op. 27 No. 1 as in C sharp major and Op. 55 No. 2 as in E flat minor.'