It’s only six months since Stephen Hough’s seductive performances of Mompou enchanted us all; and now another highly praised pianist has embarked on an extensive series of pieces by this elusive master of understatement. At least, that’s how this essentially intimate music should strike us; but Pizarro, exquisite as are his tonal nuances, is altogether more extrovert in his readings, which bear the atmosphere of the concert-hall rather than of quiet domestic contemplation. Obviously sensitive to Mompou’s elegantly sensuous harmonies, he seems to be trying too hard to bring them to our attention, underlining points that could be left to speak for themselves: we get some sentimentalizing (in the Third and Fourth of the Songs and dances, for example), lots and lots of left-hand-before-right-hand playing, a good deal of uncalled-for rubato that militates against the music’s appealing simplicity (as in No. 8) and some excessively slow speeds (as in the Cancons of No. 6 and, particularly, No. 7, which barely coheres). The sardana of No. 3 is first sad then vigorous, but certainly not joyeuse, as marked; and why pull the ending about so much? (Yes, I know that Mompou declared his music to be “so free”, but that’s not what he meant, I think.)
The Intimate impressions come off more convincingly: Pizarro is extremely persuasive in “Sad bird” and “Berceuse”, but seems happiest in the exhibitionist “Gipsy” and the agitated fourth “Plaint”. Incidentally, the notes describe the Dansa of No. 11 as “original”, but it isn’t: it’s based on “El barretiraire”.'