Jose de Almeida Prado - Complete Nocturnes; Ilhas

Jose Antonio de ALMEIDA PRADO (1943-2010)

Complete Nocturnes

Ilhas

Nocturne No. 1 (1985)

Nocturne No. 2 (1985)

Nocturne No. 3 (1985)

Nocturne No. 4 (1985)

Nocturne No. 5 (1985)

Nocturne No. 6 (1986)

Nocturne No. 7 (1987)

Nocturne No. 8 (1987)

Nocturne No. 9 (1987)

Nocturne No. 10 (1987)

Nocturne No. 11 (1991)

Nocturne No. 12 (1991)

Nocturne No. 13 (1991)

Nocturne No. 14 (1991)

Ilhas (Islands) (1973)

Aleyso Scopel (Piano)

Recorded 4-5 October 2021 at Sala Cecilia Meireles, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

Review:

The still-fairly-young (age 40) and handsome Brazilian pianist Aleyson Scopel is exactly the kind of artist I admire in that he champions an excellent 20th-century composer, José Antônio Rezende de Almeida Prado (1943-2010), who is scarcely known outside his native country yet whose music is not only fascinating but wholly original. After studying music with a native teacher, Camargo Guarnieri, Almeida Prado delved into more complex harmonies with Olivier Messiaen and Nadia Boulanger in Paris. Scopel has already given the world a great gift by recording most of his Cartas Celestas for Grand Piano, and here he gives us the composer’s 14 Nocturnes—of which only Nos. 2, 4 and 7 have been previously recorded—and his 18-minute piano suite, Ilhas or Islands. In this respect, Scopel may be compared to American pianist Raymond Lewenthal, who brought the music of Charles-Valentin Alkan out of the shadows and into the mainstream, although I don’t yet see other pianists jumping on Almeida Prado’s bandwagon the way other pianists jumped on Alkan’s.

The Nocturnes are much shorter works than the Cartas Celestas as well as more rhythmic, although their rhythm is made up of complex meters. Although the melodic lines are, for the most part, not melodies that people will remember or sing to themselves when leaving the concert hall, they do have a primarily tonal feel to them although the underlying harmonies move all over the map in a series of opaque chords and running bass lines. The exceptions are nocturnes Nos. 2 and 4, the former having a melody based on Beethoven’s “Moonlight” Sonata and No. 4 having a lovely, almost lullaby-like tune, which explains their having been previously recorded. In between Nos. 2 and 4, however, we get the relatively long, almost surrealist Nocturne No. 3, which almost sounds like one of the composer’s Cartas Celestas in miniature. Nocturne No. 5 is one of the very few built on a steady tempo, the left hand setting up a nice rocking rhythm using a repeated two-note motif over which the right hand plays—although there is a middle section, much faster in tempo, which is more complex in rhythm.

Yet it is Nocturne No. 7 which sounds the most like one of his Cartas Celestas with its rumbling arpeggios and asymmetric, impressionistic melody line. In addition, No. 8 almost sounds like a continuation of No. 7, albeit with a different theme. Nocturne No. 12 struck me as the most surreal and fragmented of the series, using the pentatonic scale and chromatic harmonies with the right hand playing, for the most part, very high up on the keyboard. The last Nocturne, however, is also quite strange, suddenly shifting course in the middle with a loud, fast-paced section with a strong, non-nocturne-like rhythm.

Although it is technically a continuous work, Ilhas is divided into eight sections, entitled “Island of the Nine Volcanos,” “Stone Island” (starting at 3:28), “Island of Ice” (5:18), Green-Blue Island” (6:35), “Coral Island” (8:48), Island of the Flowers” (13:10), “Fortunate Islands” (14:38) and “Archipelago” at 16:17. The entire suite, as I hear it, is similar in structure to his Cartas Celestas but more outward-looking, with many more forte passages, although “Island of Ice” is relatively quiet, sparse music. Much of this score is atonal but not dodecaphonic; there are only a few cue points here and there where it comes close to tonality before moving off-course once again. The music is also quite fragmented; there are tenuous connections between sections but not strong ones. Each segment of this suite, however, has its own feeling and “flavor.” I hear it as a shorter variant on one of his Cartas Celestas.

As usual, Scopel is a master of both mood and articulation, bringing out the structure of these pieces without over-emphasizing anything yet still making every note, even in the inner voices, audible to the listener. Quite simply, this is an astounding album.

Lynn René Bayley