Commissioned for pianist Anton Mejias, Philip Lasser’s The Art of Memory is a series of 12 preludes in descending chromatic order, for which each piece collects ‘remembrances’ of previous preludes. Ideally one would want to follow the composer’s process by listening to the cycle in a continuous uninterrupted sequence. By doing so, the contrasts in moods, tempos and keys project a cohesive game plan that showcases Lasser’s pithy and accessible style. His innate lyrical gift and harmonic orientation take deep root in the American tonal tradition associated with Copland, Barber, Bernstein, Rorem, Sondheim and Corigliano, with occasional modal interloping from across the pond (a little John Ireland here, a little Cyril Scott there, etc).

In this live 2024 recital from Dresden, Mejias nestles Lasser’s Preludes within Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier Book 2. Lasser’s first Prelude appears after the first four Bach Preludes and Fugues. Then we have Preludes and Fugues Nos 5‑8, followed by Lasser’s Prelude No 2, with Mejias continuing in sequence. Surprisingly, the Bach/Lasser juxtapositions turn out to be less jarring than I anticipated; in fact, some are quite refreshing. For example, Mejias’s gracefully dispatched Bach C minor Fugue and C sharp major Prelude readings comfortably bookend Lasser’s hymnlike first Prelude. Lasser’s unpretentiously tuneful A major Prelude provides a welcome palette cleanser immediately following the Bach G sharp minor Fugue’s austerity. What is more, my inner ear managed to retain many of Lasser’s thematic threads even with the Preludes spread out at far remove. It’s the musical equivalent of keeping several storylines in your head while watching an epic film.

As for Mejias’s Bach pianism, there’s much to savour. His assertive D major Prelude contrasts with the Fugue’s lyrical alla breve treatment. The E major Prelude’s variety of articulation showcases the pianist’s excellent finger-based legato technique, while the Fugue’s terraced lines evoke a vocal motet. If Mejias self-consciously tapers the F major Prelude’s appoggiaturas at times, he compensates with a briskly straightforward Fugue. His moderate tempo for the G major Prelude allows the melodic threads to emerge from the toccata-like texture.

While Mejias’s scintillating fingers energise the G minor Fugue, the close-lying counterpoint often seems to line up vertically rather than horizontally, lacking the linear independence distinguishing Piotr Anderszewski’s recording (Warner Classics, 2/21). On the other hand, one rarely hears such light and snappy renditions of the A flat major and A major Fugues, although Mejias’s martellando articulation in the A minor Fugue grows more fatiguing as the music unfolds. Like Glenn Gould, Mejias opts for an up-tempo and harmonically astute B flat minor Fugue. The misty introspection of Lasser’s concluding 12th Prelude proves a foil for the stern and forthright Bach B minor Prelude and Fugue that precedes it. Watching these performances on video (on the Stage+ platform) adds little to the audio-only component, except that viewers can observe Mejias’s physical economy and unflappable concentration at close hand.