Pianists and piano mavens alike understandably associate Leopold Godowsky with the formidable intricacies of his texturally multi-level and arguably overloaded transcriptions, while either undervaluing or not being aware of the striking originality distinguishing his best original works, such as the Java Suite. While touring the Far East in 1922 and 1923, Godowsky became fascinated with Java’s sights and sounds. Returning to the West, he composed the 12 pieces of the Java Suite, providing a brief written characterisation of each as well as precise dynamic and pedalling indications. Above all, he wanted to channel the surface virtuosity towards Impressionistic and tonally alluring ends. The result is a series of evocative tone poems teeming with exquisite harmonic invention, refined sonorities and subtly shifting moods. Indeed, the Java Suite may well be Godowsky’s most personal and heartfelt creation, where workmanship prioritises expression over cleverness.

Tobias Borsboom’s warm sonority and colouristic gifts are ideal for the Java Suite’s aesthetic, abetted by the mellifluous resonance of Brendon Heinst’s engineering. This sound world contrasts with the brighter transparency of Esther Budiardjo’s premiere recording of the complete suite (ProPiano). While Borsboom takes a slower tempo for the opening section of ‘Gamelan’ than Budiardjo and Konstantin Scherbakov (Marco Polo) do, it is more in keeping with Godowsky’s languido directive, and imparts a magical sweep to the upward 10-against-8 scales. He also makes more of Godowsky’s expressive tempo fluctuations and quasi-Granados harmonies in ‘Puppet Shadow Plays’. Compared to Scherbakov’s propulsive dry-point reading of ‘The Great Day’, Borsboom tones down the accents on the repeated notes, creating a less percussive celebration than the composer might have envisioned, yet it’s quite beautiful. The pianist’s supple spin through ‘Chattering Monkeys’ sounds heavy-gaited next to Budiardjo’s lithe shimmer. By taking nearly two minutes longer than Scherbakov over ‘Boro Budur in Moonlight’, Borsboom thoroughly captures the music’s brooding mystery. Similar observations apply to the languid yet well-sustained unfolding of ‘The Ruined Water Castle at Djokja’.

On the other hand, ‘The Bromo Volcano and the Sand Sea at Daybreak’ could easily be mistaken for one of the more heroic of Rachmaninov’s Études-tableaux, and here Borsboom underplays the climaxes. Unfortunately, the cycle’s best known movement ‘The Gardens of Buitenzorg’ proves this recording’s weak link, where Borsboom’s rudderless phrasing causes the long lines to disintegrate. Conversely, Stephen Hough’s fleeter interpretation conveys a far shapelier foreground/background textural perspective. In this respect I prefer Budiardjo’s consistency from one piece to the next. In sum, Borsboom’s generally lyrical demeanour offers much to enjoy, but Budiardjo’s account remains more recommendable.

This review originally appeared in the SUMMER 2025 issue of International Piano – Subscribe Today