Prokofiev arranged excerpts from his ballet Cinderella for solo piano as three separate suites: the Three Pieces Op. 95, Ten Pieces Op. 97, and Six Pieces Op. 102. Here Olli Mustonen fashions his own extended suite that starts with Op. 95 intact, continues with Op. 97 reordered minus one piece, and concludes with three of the Op. 102 selections. In the main, Mustonen’s amazingly worked-out pianism toes the fine line between brilliant individuality and irritating self-absorption. In Op. 97, for instance, the pianist brings remarkable crispness and élan to the frolicking triplet figurations throughout Fairy Spring and the Grasshoppers and Dragon Flies, and rubs our noses in the Autumn Fairy’s dissonant accents. At times, however, interpretive tics transform the music’s rhythmic profile and thematic resourcefulness into mannered mush. The Op. 95 Pavane is a case in point.
Here Mustonen’s exaggerated dynamic swells and constant toying with the basic pulse makes it difficult to ascertain the melodic focal point, while his fondness for super-staccato articulation spills over onto notes that should be slurred, held longer, or forcefully accented. By contrast, Frederic Chiu balances Prokofiev’s textures in clear and characterful perspective, taking more trouble to observe the difference between, say, a piano and mezzo-piano. Mustonen’s petulantly detailed waltz between Cinderella and the Prince (Op. 102 No. 1) has all the lilt of a roller-coaster, as opposed to Chiu’s steadier pulse and stricter adherence to Prokofiev’s marked tempo changes. Similar virtues and drawbacks apply to the 12 miniatures encompassing Music for Children Op. 65. The disc closes with a curvaceous and rhetorical account of the C major Prelude Op. 12 No. 7 that doesn’t quite match the shimmer and tonal variety of Chiu’s quicker, steadier reading. In all, Mustonen’s best efforts command respect, even awe–but don’t ignore Chiu.
