CHARLES-VALENTIN ALKAN : Alkan Edition (2017) 13CD BOX-SET | FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
All Tracks & Credits

ALKAN : A Symposium (1992) FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1. Rondo Brillant Op.4 12:51
Ensemble – Morhange Ensemble
Piano – Christine Stevenson
2. Deuxième Concert Da Camera Op.10, In C Sharp 7:36
Ensemble – Morhange Ensemble
Piano – Anthony Goldstone
3. Pas Redoublé For Wind Band 2:30
Conductor – Mark Fitz-Gerald
Ensemble – Leicestershire Schools Band
4. String Quartet In F Minor (Fragment) 0:20
Ensemble – Morhange Ensemble
5. Etz Chajjim 2:01
Choir – The Kentish Opera Singers
Conductor – Mark Fitz-Gerald
6. Les Regrets de la Nonnette 3:37
Piano – Ronald Smith
7. Halelouyah 1:33
Choir – The Kentish Opera Singers
Conductor – Mark Fitz-Gerald
8-15.     Petits Préludes Sur Les Huit Gammes Du Plain-chant
Organ – Nicholas King
16-17. Beethoven: Concerto En Ut Mineur Op.37 (Première Partie). Transcription de Concert Pour Piano Seul Avec Cadence
Piano – Thomas Wakefield
18. Marcia Funebre Sulla Morte D'un Papagallo 9:12
Bassoon – William Waterhouse
Choir – The Kentish Opera Singers
Conductor – Mark Fitz-Gerald
Oboe – Alison Turnbull, Hazel Todd, Rachel Porter
19. Siciliano, From Flute Sonata In E Flat BWV1031 2:48
Composed By – Johann Sebastian Bach
Piano – Penny Loosemore
Transcription By – Charles-Valentin Alkan
20. Prélude En Mi Majeur Op.66 No.1 1:28
Organ – Nicholas King
21. Bombardo-Carillon For Pedal-Piano, 4 Feet 5:30
Piano [4 Hands] – Caroline Clemmow & Anthony Goldstone

CHARLES-VALENTIN ALKAN : Organ Works 1 (Kevin Bowyer) (2007) APE (image+.cue), lossless

Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1. Benedictus, Op. 54    8:53
2-7. 12 Études D'Orgue Ou De Piano À Pedales Pour Les Pieds Seulement, Nos. 1–6.    (18:09)
8-19. 11 Grands Préludes Et 1 Transcription Du Messie De Hændel, Op. 66    (49:51)
Credits :
Organ [Organ Of Blackburn Cathedral] – Kevin Bowyer

CHARLES-VALENTIN ALKAN : Organ Works 2 (Kevin Bowyer) (2007) APE (image+.cue), lossless

Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1 Pro Organo    2:20Ensemble – Morhange Ensemble
2-7 12 Études Pour Les Pieds Seulement, Nos. 7–12    (21:20)
8-19 11 Pièces Dans Le Style Religieux, Et 1 Transcription Du Messie De Handel, Op. 72    (50:00)
Credits :
Organ [Organ Of Blackburn Cathedral] – Kevin Bowyer

ALKAN : Piano Works (Ronald Smith) 2CD (2002) Serie Double ƒƒorte | FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
CD1 : 1-4. Grande Sonate Op.33 « Les Quatre Âges » (43:26)    
5-8. 4 Études ([From] 12 Études Dans Tous Les Tons Mineurs, Op.39)
 9.  La Chanson De La Folle Au Bord De La Mer, Préludes 4:21
10. Allegro Barbaro, 12 Études Dans Tous Les Tons Majeurs 2:33
CD2 : 1-4. Sonatine, Op.61    (18:16)
5-7. Trois Grande Études Pour Les Deux Mains Séparées  (38:41)
 8-10. Trois Études De Bravoure, Op.16 (Tre Scherzi)    (19:41)
Credits :
Piano – Ronald Smith
Front cover: Adolph von Menzel (1895-1905) – A Weekday in Paris (Kunstmuseum, Düsseldorf/AKG, London)

CHARLES-VALENTIN ALKAN : Symphonie Op. 39 · Overture · Two Études (Bernard Ringeissen) (1990) FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

The monumental Symphonie, orchestral in conception, yet idiomatically written for the piano, is in four movements. True to the promise of the title of Opus 39, each is in a different key. The massive first movement is in C minor and is followed by an F minor Funeral March, with a gentle lightening of mood in an F major Trio section of particularly unexpected charm, before the slow tread of the march is resumed. The third movement Minuet moves to the darker key of B flat minor and is more of a Scherzo in mood, with touches of Ländler, contrasted with a lyrical central G flat major Trio, to be recalled briefly as the movement comes to an end. The finale, in E flat minor, described by the American pianist Raymond Lewenthal as a ride in Hell, is impelled relentlessly forward, its thematic material providing scope for contrapuntal exploration. This dazzling and demanding movement provides a conclusion of sufficient weight and brilliance to balance what has gone before, in a work of subtle cyclic unity.

The eleventh study, an Ouverture in the key of B minor, opens with a brief prelude, followed by sombre dotted rhythms, a fleeting reminder of the musical language Schumann found fitting for the majestic Cathedral of Cologne, melting into a much gentler mood, a simple theme, simply varied. An Allegro follows, based on three contrasted themes, the last in a darker mood, the material from which what follows is constructed. The Ouverture ends in B major with a final section that opens with a figure associated with the hunt and proceeds to a final affirmative reference to the opening of the Allegro.

Opus 39 opens with an A minor study under the title Comme le vent (Like the Wind), a tour de force for any performer, demanding, as it does, an extreme of speed. Although of relatively short duration, its structure corresponds to traditional sonata form, with a contrasting second melody emerging from the swirl of notes. It is followed by a study En rythme molossique (In Molossian Rhythm), in form a rondo, in the key of D minor, moving to D major, and dominated by the rhythm of the title. There is a return to the minor mode in a brief and hushed postscript. The two studies offer formidable difficulties to a performer, but are truer to the title of Opus 39 than much that follows. naxos
Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1-4. Études From Douze Études Dans Les Tons Mineurs, Op. 39    
        Symphony, Op. 39 Nos. 4 - 7
5. Ouverture, Op. 39, No. 11
6. Comme Le Vent, Op. 39, No. 1
7. En Rhythme Molossique, Op. 39, No. 2
Credits :
Piano – Bernard Ringeissen
Cover: Notre Dame (1850) (Topographikon)

CHARLES-VALENTIN ALKAN : Préludes Op. 31 (Laurent Martin) (1990) FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

The 25 Preludes in all major and minor keys, Opus 31, appeared in 1847, designed for piano or organ, or, no doubt, for the instrument that Alkan particularly favoured, the pédalier or pianoforte with pedal-board, for which Schumann and Gounod, among others, also wrote. The Preludes go through all 24 keys, returning to a final Prayer in the affirmative original key of C major. The first set of nine opens meditatively and proceeds in a sequence of keys that moves alternately up a fourth and down a third, to F minor in the second and to D-flat major in the third, Dans le genre ancien, the old style in question being nothing more ancient than Bach, heard through the ears of Mendelssohn. Jewish tradition is at the root of the Prière du soir (“Evening Prayer”), the rejoicing of Psalm 150 and the Cantor’s chant of the Sixth Prelude. The rhythm of Schubert and harmony of Schumann mark the relatively cheerful Seventh Prelude, contrasted with La chanson de la folle au bord de la mer (“The Song of the Mad Woman on the Shore”), where the deep tones of the sea itself accompany the increasing tension of the song. The group ends with Placiditas, as tranquil in mood as its title.

The second group of Preludes opens with a rapid fugal piece in the key of A minor, leading to a pleasant trifle, Un petit rien. Le temps qui n’est plus (“Time Past”) brings its own B-flat minor melancholy, leading to Busoni’s favourite Prelude, inspired by a verse from the Song of Songs, "I slept, but my heart watched". A rapid B minor Prelude, moving to B major, is succeeded by Dans le genre gothique (“In the Gothic Style”), a Prelude of beguilingly un-Gothic simplicity and the gentle melancholy of the sixteenth of the series. Rêve d’amour (“Dream of Love”), with its shifting harmonies, and conclusion marked "palpitan", ends the set.

The third suite, which has the title Enseignement du piano (“Piano Instruction”) starts with an expressive melody for the right hand, based on a repeated rhythmic figure. The following Prelude is a morning prayer, Prière du matin (“Morning Prayer”), followed by a study in octaves. A gentle interlude in B-flat major gives way to Anniversaire of apparent ingenuousness, followed by a pair of Preludes, the second of which is an exercise in velocity, calling for extreme rapidity and delicacy in the right hand. A C major Prayer ends the work. naxos
Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1-9. 25 Preludes dans touts les tons majeur et mineurs, 1ere Suite, Op. 31
10-17. 25 Preludes dans touts les tons majeur et mineurs, 2me Suite, Op. 31
18-25. 25 Preludes dans touts les tons majeur et mineurs, 3me Suite, Op. 31
Credits :
Piano – Laurent Martin
Cover: Palais de Justice, Paris (1850) (Topographikon)

CHARLES-VALENTIN ALKAN : Sonate De Concert Pour Violoncelle Et Piano Opus. 47 · Grand Duo Concertant Pour Violon Et Piano Opus. 31 (Tedi Papavrami, Christoph Henkel, Huseyin Sermet) (1993) FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1-4.  Sonate De Concert Pour Violoncelle Et Piano Opus 47
Cello – Christoph Henkel
Piano – Huseyin Sermet
5-7.  Grand Duo Concertant Pour Piano Et Violon Opus 21
Piano – Huseyin Sermet
Violin – Tedi Papavrami

ALKAN : Grande Sonate 'Les quatre âges' · Sonatine · Le Festin d'Ésope (Marc-André Hamelin) (1995) APE (image+.cue), lossless

The Grande Sonate and Sonatine, brought together on this recording, are Charles-Valentin Alkan’s first and last masterpieces for solo piano and illustrate two extremes in the composer’s aesthetic development.

In many respects, the Grande Sonate, Op 33, is one of the pinnacles not only of Alkan’s output but of the entire Romantic piano repertoire. In writing a piano sonata, Alkan was reviving and preserving a form which was not merely undervalued by the French but was even described by Schumann as being ‘worn out’. In the hands of this extremely discreet composer, it could almost claim to be a manifesto: composed in the wake of the 1848 Revolution, and dedicated to his father, it is prefaced by what constitutes one of the rare official examples of the composer’s taking an aesthetic stand on an extremely controversial matter: programme music. His text is not to be overlooked:

    Much has been said and written about the limitations of expression through music. Without adopting this rule or that, without trying to resolve any of the vast questions raised by this or that system, I will simply say why I have given these four pieces such titles and why I have sometimes used terms which are simply never used by others.

    It is not a question, here, of imitative music; even less so of music seeking its own justification, seeking to explain its particular effect or its validity, in a realm beyond the music itself. The first piece is a scherzo, the second an allegro, the third and fourth an andante and a largo; but each one corresponds, to my mind, to a given moment in time, to a specific frame of mind, a particular state of the imagination. Why should I not portray it? We will always have music in some form and it can but enhance our ability to express ourselves; the performer, without relinquishing anything of his individual sentiment, is inspired by the composer’s own ideas: a name and an object which in the realm of the intellect form a perfect combination, seem, when taken in a material sense, to clash with one another. So, however ambitious this information may seem at first glance, I believe that I might be better understood and better interpreted by including it here than I would be without it.

    Let me also call upon Beethoven in his authority. We know that, towards the end of his career, this great man was working on a systematic catalogue of his major works. In it, he aimed to record the plan, memory or inspiration which gave rise to each one.

The composition and publication of the Grande Sonate occurred at a crucial moment in the composer’s life. During the summer of 1848, when the Revolution was not yet over, Zimmerman, Alkan’s teacher, resigned from his position as Professor of Piano at the Paris Conservatoire. It would seem natural enough that Charles-Valentin, his most brilliant and promising student, should succeed him; but in the troubled climate of the time, and as a result of some predictable intrigue, it was in fact a second-rate musician, Antoine Marmontel, who was to gain the post. This was a particularly bitter pill for Alkan to swallow; he was to fade gradually further into obscurity and renounce all public and official posts. The Revolution was also to harm any publicity which might have surrounded the publication of the Grande Sonate: although it was well heralded in the music magazines, it would appear that there was not one single review of the piece, nor one public performance thereafter. The British pianist Ronald Smith is fully justified in thinking that he brought the piece to life when he gave it its first public performance in America in 1973!

Alkan was to try his hand at the piano sonata form on four occasions: the Grande Sonate, Op 33, the Symphony and Concerto for solo piano, Op 39, and the Sonatine, Op 61, all illustrate the discrepancies between an inherited Classical form and the trends of Romanticism. The astonishing complexity of the Grande Sonate was certainly disconcerting for his contemporaries and sufficiently justified his decision to give the programme a preface. Let us not forget three of its most markedly original features: as in the Symphony and Concerto, Op 39, and well before Mahler or Nielsen, the tonality evolves during the course of the work without returning to a ‘root tonality’; confining ourselves to the start of each movement, the keys are respectively D major, D sharp minor, G major, G sharp minor; if we focus purely on the endings, we find B major, F sharp major, G major and G sharp minor. The sequence of tempi was equally likely to be disconcerting for the listener: in place of the usual quick–slow–quick, Alkan puts four successively slower movements one after another. Finally, he invokes two of the great Romantic myths – Faust and Prometheus; the first, immortalized by Goethe, enjoyed a popularity kept alive by Berlioz, Gounod, Liszt and Schumann etc, while Prometheus takes us back to antiquity, to an era which Alkan, being passionate about the Classics, knew well and which he often referred to in his compositions.

The sonata opens with ‘20 ans’, a frenzied scherzo which frequently reminds one of Chopin’s Scherzo No 3. Straightaway, the 3/4 time is juxtaposed with accents on every other beat. The trio portrays the awakening of love, working its way gradually through various sections, from ‘timidly’ to ‘lovingly’ and on to ‘with joy’. The coda brings the movement to a whirling conclusion.

‘30 ans, Quasi-Faust’ is the heart of the sonata. It opens with the Faust theme which, in four bars, covers the whole keyboard and states the rhythmic formulae which will permeate the entire movement. There follows the Devil’s theme, in B major, which is the inversion of Faust’s theme. Marguerite’s theme, in G sharp minor and then major, presented at first in a mood of sweet sadness, passes through numerous climatic changes. The development and the return of the exposition lead on to four huge arpeggios which spread across every octave of the keyboard. Now comes a fugue, a horribly complicated eight-part fugue, which the eye alone can follow in the score; in order to make it legible, the composer himself establishes the use of different manuscript styles! The fugue continues until the entrance of ‘Le Seigneur’, and the movement concludes with a clear victory of Good over Evil, thus inspired by Goethe’s Faust Part 2, unlike the ending of Berlioz’s opera-oratorio where the composer boldly damns his hero.

‘40 ans, un ménage heureux’ presents a picture of unspoken Romance, interrupted on two occasions by a charming three-voice digression entitled ‘les enfants’; this latter section exhibits a use of thirds, sixths, fifths which is very untypical of Alkan who, unlike Chopin, usually shows little interest in anything other than octaves and chords. With the return of the opening section, the theme, treated in canon, becomes even more animated. The clock striking ten is the signal for prayer.

‘50 ans, Prométhée enchaîné’ draws us to the abyss. As an epigraph, Alkan cites several verses of the Aesychlus tragedy:

    No, you could never bear my suffering! If only destiny would let me die! To die … would release me from my torments! Would that Jupiter had not lost his power. I will live whatever he might do … See if I deserve to suffer such torments! [lines 750–754, 1051, 1091 (the end of the play)]

After the victory in ‘Quasi-Faust’ and the joy of the happy household – something which the composer would always be denied – ‘50 ans’ ends with an acknowledgement of failure, in a visionary piece written without hint of pomposity or excess. Thinking about the composer’s destiny, the piece is also a premonition.

The Sonatine, Op 61, was written fourteen years after the Grande Sonate and forms a striking contrast to it. Concise and concentrated in the extreme, refined in its style of writing, and of exceptional technical difficulty, it is a gem of equilibrium and perhaps presents Alkan at his most accessible. Its first movement, although swept along and interrupted by violent angry outbursts, maintains a profound coherence, reinforced by the taut conjoining of its two themes. The Allegramente which follows, in F major, belongs within the best tradition of Alkan’s falsely naive works. It is immediately reminiscent of the slow movement from Maurice Ravel’s Sonatine; Ravel was, moreover, familiar with the music of this, the composer of Le festin d’Esope. The Scherzo-Minuet, in D minor, is one of those perpetual motion pieces of which the composer was so fond; he interrupts its driving rhythm with a trio which eases the pace of the movement but is unsettled by various rhythmic and harmonic devices. The finale, Tempo giusto, opens with startling fifths which conjure up the empty chords of a cello or the toll of bells, in the style of Mussorgsky in his Pictures at an Exhibition; the sections which follow vary greatly without ever altering the movement’s deep cohesion. A dry fortissimo chord brings the four movements to a close.

Le festin d’Esope completes the cycle of 12 Études dans tous les tons mineurs, Op 39, to which the Symphony and the huge Concerto for solo piano belong. The term ‘study’ should be taken to mean the same as it does to Chopin and a fortiori Clementi or Cramer. Alkan, more so even than Liszt, expands the scope of this form to the dimension of a symphonic poem, a rhapsody. Le festin d’Esope consists of a series of variations on a theme which one might liken to traditional Jewish melodies. The argument is to be found again in Jean de la Fontaine’s La vie d’Esope le Phrygien:

    One market day, Xantus, who had decided to treat some of his friends, ordered him to buy the best and nothing but the best. The Phrygian said to himself, ‘I’m going to teach you to specify what you want, without leaving it all to the discretion of a slave’. And so he bought nothing but tongue, which he adapted to each different sauce; the starter, the main course, the dessert, everything was tongue. At first the guests praised his choice of dish; but by the end they were filled with disgust. ‘Did I not order you’, said Xantus, ‘to buy the best?’ ‘And what could be better than tongue?’ answered Aesop. ‘It is our connection to civil life, the key to the sciences, the organ of truth and reason. Through it, we build and police our towns; we learn; we persuade; we rule over assemblies; we fulfil the greatest of all our duties, namely to praise God.’

The theme of the tongue, the most important organ and function, is frequently mentioned in the Bible, Alkan’s favourite book. The variations, apart from dealing with various technical problems, illustrate without doubt every possible transformation that a theme could go through; in addition, one is presented with a succession of little tableaux of the animal kingdom, Alkan giving us several hints of this such as the marking abajante.

The Barcarolle which completes this recital is taken from the third of Alkan’s five Recueils de Chants for piano. These five books are distinctive in that they are modelled on Mendelssohn’s first collection of Lieder ohne Worte; they follow the same tone sequence and conclude with a barcarolle. The Barcarolle from the third collection is undoubtedly one of Alkan’s most seductive and meaningful pieces: its melody imprints itself immediately on one’s memory, and the whole work radiates a melancholic sweetness. (François Luguenot - Hyperion)
Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1-4.  Grande Sonate "Les Quatre Âges" Op 33    (38:25)
5-8.  Sonatine Op 61    (17:56)
9. Barcarolle Op 65 No 6    3:53
10. Le Festin D'Esope Op 39 No 12    8:45
Credits :
Piano – Marc-André Hamelin
Painting [Cover Painting] – Tiziano Vecellio

CHARLES-VALENTIN ALKAN : Etudes Opp. 12 and 76 · Le preux · Le chemin de fer (Laurent Martin) (1993) FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

The name of Alkan was once joined with Chopin, Liszt, Schumann and Brahms, as one of the greatest composers for the piano in the age that followed the death of Beethoven. At the same time he won praise as one of the most remarkable pianists of his time. Nevertheless much of his life was spent in eccentric obscurity, withdrawn from society. In recent years there has been a revival of interest in his music, led at the beginning of the twentieth century by Busoni and furthered by other champions. This interest has yet to result in any widespread attention to Alkan among performers, for whom he often presents very considerable technical problems.

Alkan was born Charles-Valentin Morhange, the eldest of the five children of Alkan Morhange, a music-teacher whose forebears had settled in Paris in the Marais, the Jewish quarter of the city. He and his brothers chose to use their father's name in preference to the family name and all were to make their careers in music in one way or another. Charles-Valentin Alkan made his first concert appearance as a violinist at the age of seven in 1821. At the Conservatoire he was a piano pupil of Joseph Zimmermann, future father-in-law of Gounod and teacher of Bizet and César Franck, and won considerable success as a child prodigy, exciting even the admiration of Cherubini. He enjoyed the particular favour of aristocratic patrons, including the Princess de la Moskova and other members of the Russian circle in Paris, his success prejudiced to his momentary chagrin by the first appearance of the young Liszt. With Chopin he felt greater affinity. The two had much in common, and both were to become respected in Paris as private teachers to the aristocracy, although Chopin never isolated himself from society, as Alkan was to, and his musical innovations were to take another form.

In the 1830s, his studies at the Conservatoire now concluded with great distinction, Alkan settied ay an apartmeny in the Place d'Orléans. He continued to busy himself as a composer, chiefly for the piano, publishing music that Schumann, indulging in his early musical journalism, found false and unnatural, these the least of his strictures. Certainly Schumann himself would have found insuperable technical difficulties in the Trois Grandes Eludes of 1838, one for left hand, one for right hand, and the third for both hands together. In March, 1838, after a series of concert appearances in Paris which had established him as a performer of the first rank, Alkan appeared in a recital with Chopin, before an enthusiastic audience. This seems to have been his last public concert for some six years, during which it was rumoured that a possible affaire with a married woman had led to the birth of a son, Elie Miriam Delaborde, the future pianist and editor of some of Alkan's music.

Alkan's concert appearances in 1844 and 1845 were followed by a further long period of silence and withdrawal from the concert platform. 1848 in particular brought a significant disappointment. Considered by many, and certainly by himself, as the clear successor to Zimmermann at the Conservatoire, he was passed over by the new Director, Auber, who chose to appoint instead Marmontel, a younger musician for whom Alkan had little respect, as is apparent from the letters he wrote supporting his own candidature, enlisting George Sand among others in his cause. He gave a concert in May, 1849, his last for the next 25 years.

Isolating himself from the general musical life of Paris, Alkan continued in the following years to teach and, intermittently, to compose. Protected from unwanted visitors by a vigilant concierge, he lived a hypochondriac bachelor existence of obvious eccentricity, continuing his long-standing interest in the scriptures and translating from the Hebrew Talmud and later from the Syriac version of the New Testament. In 1873, however, he emerged from retirement to offer a series of Six Petits Concerts de Musique Classique at the Salons Erard, with which he had had an enduring association. As in his programmes of forty years before, or those of Rubinstein's historical concerts, he offered a remarkable conspectus of keyboard music, played with a classical precision and a technique only slightly affected his years. These concert series seem to have continued intermittently until the time of his death in 1888, while the curious could hear him every Monday and Thursday at the Salle Erard, where an instrument was at his disposal.

The manner of Alkan's death has been a matter of some speculation. Although the narrative has been romantically embellished, it seems probable that he died as the result of a domestic accident, when a cupboard or book-case fell on him. Whether or not he died clutching a copy of the Talmud, retrieved from the top shelf of the collapsing book-case, is open to doubt. The story emphasises, at least, Alkan's religious and literary interests, offering an interesting inverse parallel to the flamboyant career of his contemporary Liszt, turned Abbé, who had died in lodgings in Bayreuth, attended by one of his young female pupils, in 1886.

In 1837 Alkan published a series of twelve pieces, Trois études de bravoure or Improvisations, Op. 12, Trois andantes romantiques, Op. 13, Trois morceaux dans le genre pathétique, Op. 15 and Trois études de bravoure (Scherzi), Op.16. These twelve piano pieces were issued in four volumes under the general title Douze Caprices. The studies that form the first volume had the earlier title Improvisations dans le style brillant, aptly descriptive. The first of the three, with its leaping octaves and sudden modulations, opens the door to a new world, technically and musically. It is followed by a D flat major Allegretto, initially a gentle contrast, although it increases in intensity, before the wistful ending over a sustained pedal-point. The Improvisations end with a B minor March, transforming what might otherwise have seemed trite thematic material into something much more imposing.

Le preux, Op. 17, The Valiant Knight, was published in 1844, and is again a bravura concert study, offering technical challenges to the performer, something suggested already in the choice of title, with pianist as champion. Lechemin de fer, Op. 27, The Railway, was also published in 1844,celebrating in musical terms a railway journey, a relative novelty of the period and something that was to provide material over the years for a number of other composers, intrigued by the rhythm of the machine and the whistle of the engine. Railway journeys of this kind presented possible dangers, and of these Alkan is well aware, as the train gathers by speed, before coming to a halt in safety.

The Trois grandes études, Op. 76, first appeared in 1838, although they were subsequently given the opus number of a later period. The first of these formidable studies is an A flat Fantaisie for left hand alone. An introduction is developed at an increased speed, leading to an extended final section, based on a sinister theme announced in lower register octaves. The second study, a D major Introduction, variations et finale for the right hand alone, makes still greater technical demands. The opening is in the form of a solemn introduction, with just the suggestion of a well known Schubert song in its melodic contour. The gentle theme, in A major, is followed by variations that explore changes of key and texture. The gentle staccato of the first leads to a contrapuntal F major second variation, an elaborate third in C major and a fourth of astonishing virtuosity, the final variation restoring the original key of A major, before the histrionic D major Finale. Both hands reunite in the third study in C minor, an extended rondo that presses forward with the motor impetus of a rapid tocata naxos
Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1-3.  3 etudes de bravoure, Op. 12
4.  Le preux (Etude de Concert), Op. 17
5.  Le chemin de fer, Op. 27
6-8.  3 grandes etudes, Op. 76
Credits :
Piano – Laurent Martin

ALKAN : Trois Grandes Etudes Op.76 • Trois Etudes De Bravoure (Scherzi) Op.16 (Ronald Smith) (1988) Studio Series | FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1-3. Trois Grandes Etudes Pour Les Deux Mains Séparées Et Réunies Op. 76
4-6. Trois Etudes De Bravoure (Scherzi) Op. 16
Credits :
Piano – Ronald Smith

ALKAN : Concerto for solo piano · Troisième recueil de chants (Marc-André Hamelin) (2007) FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

Anyone familiar with the unfailing digits and seemingly inexhaustible energy of Canadian pianist Marc-André Hamelin would find the very prospect of his recording Charles-Valentin Alkan's giga-difficult Concerto for solo piano as a natural match of pianist and piece. This 50-minute mega-monstrosity -- the first movement alone lasts nearly a half an hour, and runs to more than 70 pages -- has been played only by pianists intrepid and skilled enough to make the voyage, the short list including Egon Petri, Alkan acolyte Ronald Smith, and John Ogdon, in one of his finest recorded outings. With Hamelin, this Hyperion release Alkan: Concerto for Solo Piano is all the more amazing as this is his second recorded traversal of the work, having done an earlier version for the Music & Arts label in 1993. What the 13-year interim has yielded is a deepening of Hamelin's interpretation, to the point where the rapid fire runs, leaping octaves, and thundering crescendos that characterize the work have become second nature and Hamelin is able to mainly concentrate on making Alkan's concerto sound like the glorious vision that it is. And that's not to mean the earlier recording was necessarily "bad," it's just that in the meantime he has achieved total independence from the technical challenge that Alkan's concerto represents.

This work is such a trip; it is a combination of symphony and concerto where all of the orchestral and solo parts are wound into just the two hands of the pianist. Apart from the first movement, it has a searing Adagio at its center and the Allegretto finale is marked alla barabaresca. As Brobdingnagian as the concerto is, however, Alkan never digresses; it is taut and completely strict in a formal sense even as it is likely the most expansive work for piano solo that the nineteenth century has to offer. Hamelin has mastered it, a feat so awesome that it almost makes one forget that the Hyperion disc also offers a late and lovely Alkan work as filler, the Third Book of the Recueil de Chants (1863), never before recorded in its entirety; Raymond Lewenthal recorded the Barcarolle alone on his groundbreaking RCA Victor LP Piano Music of Alkan in 1965. In a sense, Hyperion's Alkan: Concerto for solo piano illustrates how far we've come with Alkan in nearly five decades' time; from the enterprising, exploratory readings of Lewenthal in the 1960s to total command of Alkan's "impossible" pianist language in the 2000s. The one thing Alkan lacks is a place in the standard literature, and it doesn't appear as though he's ever going to have that, though if anyone can operate at the exalted level of advocacy that such a transition of thinking about Alkan would require, then Marc-André Hamelin is probably the man. Uncle Dave Lewis
Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1-3. Concerto For Solo Piano Op 39 Nos 8-10    (49:35)
4-9. Troisième Recueil De Chants Op 65    (17:57)
Credits :
Piano – Marc-André Hamelin
Front illustration : The Kiss of the Vampire (1916) by Boleslas Biegas (1877-1954)

CHARLES-VALENTIN ALKAN : Concerto for solo piano (Marc-André Hamelin) (1992) FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1-3. Concerto For Solo Piano (Concerto Pour Piano Seul) (Nos. 8, 9 & 10 From Douze Études Dans Tous Les Tons Mineurs, Op. 39)    (49:44)
Credits:
Piano [Yamaha], Producer – Marc-André Hamelin

CHARLES-VALENTIN ALKAN : Grande Sonate "Les Quatre Ages" · Le Festin d'Esope · Miniatures (Alan Weiss) (1990) FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1. Nocturne No. 1, Op. 22    6:21
2-8. 7 Esquisses, Op. 63
9. Le Festin d'Esope, Op. 39 No. 12    10:12
10. Le Temps Qui N'est Plus, Prelude Op. 31 No. 12    1:32
11. Fa, Op. 38b No. 2, From "2nd Book Of Chants"    3:05
12-16. Grande Sonate, Op. 33, "Les Quatre Ages" (The Four Ages)  
16. Toccatina, Op. 75    1:51   
Credits:
Piano – Alan Weiss

ALKAN : Character Pieces & Grotesqueries (Mark Viner) (2023) FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1. Petit Conte    4:02
2. Pour Monsieur Gurkhaus    1:11
3-10. Jean Qui Pleure Et Jean Qui Rit, Due Fughe Da Camera
11-14. Ma Chère Liberté Et Ma Chère Servitude, Deux Petites Pièces, Op.60
15-17. Trois Petites Fantaisies, Op.41
Credits:
Piano [Steinway D] – Mark Viner
Cover: Réunion de 35 têtes d'expression (c.1825), by Louis Léopold Boilly (1761-1845).
Tracks 2 and 4 = first recordings.

CHARLES VALENTIN ALKAN : Chamber Music (Trio Alkan) (1992) FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

The extensive works of Charles Valentin Alkan remain largely overshadowed in international concert repertoire. Nevertheless Alkan has had his champions, such as the co-editor of his music, Isidore Philipp (1863–1958) and Ferruccio Busoni (1866–1924), who regarded him as one of the five greatest composers of piano music after Beethoven, with Chopin, Schumann, Liszt and Brahms, and shocked the Berlin public with the massive Alkan cadenza for the Third Piano Concerto of Beethoven. Others included the pianists Sergey Rachmaninov (1873–1943), Harold Bauer (1873–1951) and Egon Petri (1881–1962), who played music by Alkan, although, regrettably, only occasionally. More recently the pianist Raymond Lewenthal (1926–1988) created a sensation with his broadcasts of music by Alkan, while the English pianist Ronald Smith (1922–) remains an almost monomaniac interpreter of Alkan, as head of the London Alkan Society and author of the first monograph on the composer, published in two volumes in 1976, a notable work.

All these efforts, however, have not so far succeeded in bringing about a radical Alkan renaissance. This is partly a matter of conservative musical taste. The generation of virtuosi, piano teachers and gifted amateurs, that, since the middle of the last century, by the constant study and performance of the music of Alkan’s contemporaries Chopin, Schumann and Liszt, has established their works as of lasting cultural value in the eyes of a wider group of people, has failed to mobilise opinion in favour of Alkan. Although he was a great virtuoso of the piano, he gave few concerts, particularly after the year of fate 1848, and consequently had too few pupils of ability and generally led the life of a recluse in his native city of Paris, which he virtually never left. He published his works spasmodically over the years, living the rigorous life of one dedicated to composition.

The fact that Alkan’s works include no symphonies, operas, oratorios or songs excluded him from the usual means in his century of reaching a wider audience. Quite decisive then and now for the general receplion of Alkan’s music is also the uncompromising nature of his piano-orientated creativity, shown in his tendency to short sketches (48 Esquisses, Op. 63), his courage in tackling macro-structures of unheard of length (Etudes up to thirty minutes long), harmonic and formal irony, as it were in the manner of Prokofiev, modernistic motor impetus, as in Le chemin de fer and Allegro barbaro, perplexing banality, an anticipation of Mahler, underlying enigmatic irony, a foretaste of Satie, and, last not least, the sometimes excessive technical demands, greater than the transcendental challenge of Liszt.

The visionary strength of this Quasi-Faust, a movement title in his Piano Sonata Op. 33, is also evident in the three chamber works that Alkan wrote. The first of these, research has established (Harry Halbreich in An Alkan Reader published by Fayard in 1991), was the Trio for piano, violin and bass in G minor, Op. 30. Published in 1841, the work, possibly written sometime earlier, starts Assez largement with a theme of rhythmic energy, which is to be contrasted with a lyrical second subject. The almost continuous flow of semi-quavers is concise, with the transitions between the sections of the movement cleverly hidden. In the middle the thematic material appears in masterly simultaneous polyphony, partly the climax of the development, partly recapitulation in the major. In the Scherzo, also in G minor, there is a rapid and witty exchange between the instruments in contrast with the dark bass melody of the Trio. The G major Lentement offers novelty of formal structure. In the classical simplicity of the four-part string writing abruptly appears a piano cadenza in the manner of Tchaikovsky (Alkan notes, with a wink, “Le violon et le basse comptent”). The introduction is repeated in shorter and intenser form and a short exchange leads to an orchestral tremolo covering the extreme range of the three instruments. The Finale, in 6/8, demands above all of the pianist a tremendous perpetuum mobile. Violin and cello, for the most part in exchange each with the other, propose a motivic and rhythmic counterpoint, until the appearance of the major coda, in which the rapid semiquaver movement is taken up by the strings.

Alkan’s Violin Sonata, the Grand Duo concertant pour piano et violon, in F-sharp minor, Op. 21, was probably written about 1840. The choice of key, F-sharp minor and major and related keys, shows that the composer, who himself also played the violin to some extent, treats the violin as he did the piano, evident too in the particular lay-out of the violin part, with its octaves in the highest positions. The first movement of the sonata offers a contrast between the archaic contour of the opening and the soaring secondary theme in D major, repeated three times, the third time “avec exaltation”. The heart of the work lies, without question, in the slow movement, L’enfer (“Hell”), which offers an unprecedented vision of the darkest abyss. The extreme closely spaced dissonances in the deepest range of the piano create a song of mourning. The brilliant Finale, to be played as fast as possible, fluctuates between a hectic perpetuum mobile and a fragmented and sometimes syncopated melodic outline. Alkan dedicated his Violin Sonata, which is here presented for the first time on compact disc, to the Belgian-born violinist and composer Chrétien Urhan (1790–1845).

Among the cello sonatas of the nineteenth century, after the five by Beethoven written between 1796 and 1815 and Chopin’s Opus 65 of 1845/6 but before the two by Brahms, written in 1865 and 1886, Alkan’s Cello Sonata in E major of 1856, Op. 47, occupies an important position, significant in the development of the form. The arrangement of the string part is as rigorous as that of the violin sonatas, with four homogeneous and complementary movements. The cyclical arrangement of keys, E major, A-flat major, C major and E minor, is striking. The opening Allegro molto, in classical first movement form, starts in singing style. The expansive development section has frequent exchanges of scale passages and a working of motivic detail concentrated often into expressive fugati. The 6/8 Siciliano of the Allegrettino creates an apparently simple bass which, through surprising turns of harmony, offers a degree of uncertainty. In the rich chromaticism there lies a certain sarcasm, typical of Alkan’s humour. The Jewish believer Alkan prefaces the Adagio with a quotation from the Old Testament (Micah V. vii) “As dew from the Lord how the Jewish people endure, awaiting help from God alone”. The gently sentimental cello theme seems to be inspired by Jewish sacred music. A clearly modern rhythmic element appears against the piano cantilena in the plucked notes of the cello. The sonata ends with a virtuoso Finale alla saltarella. Here the technical demands on both players stand alone in the musical literature of the nineteenth century. The Sonata, like the Trio dedicated to James Odier, was first performed by Auguste Franchomme, the dedicatee and first performer of Chopin’s Cello Sonata, and Alkan himself in Paris on 27th April 1857. Rainer Klass, naxos
Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1-3.    Grand Duo Concertant In F Sharp Minor, Op. 21    (21:39)
4-7.     Sonate De Concert In E Major, Op. 47    (32:18)
8-11. Trio In G Minor, Op. 30    (21:10)
Ensemble – Trio Alkan
Cello – Bernhard Schwarz (tracks: 4 to 7, 8 to 11)
Piano – Rainer Klaas
Violin – Kolja Lessing (tracks: 1 to 3, 8 to 11)

ALKAN : 12 Études Op. 39 (Jack Gibbons) 2CD (1995) APE (image+.cue), lossless

Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
Tracklist 1 :
Douze Études Dans Les Tons Mineurs, Op. 39    
1-3.    Études 1 - 7 & Miscellaneous Pieces
4-19. Symphony
Tracklist 2 :
Études 8 - 12
1-5. Concerto
Credits :
Piano, Producer, Liner Notes – Jack Gibbon

ALKAN : Twelve Studies in all the Major Keys, Op. 35 (Stephanie McCallum) (1994) FLAC (tracks+.cue), lossless

Alkan's monumental Twelve Studies in all the Major keys, opus 35, is a virtuosic tour-de-force for the pianist. Each study develops an aspect of technique but each is also pure Alkan - millions of notes and thunderous drama. McCallum has been praised world-wide for her Alkan performances, displaying prodigious technique and poised musicianship. web
Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1-6. First Suite
7-12. Second Suite
Credits:
Piano – Stephanie McCallum
Tuner [Piano Tuner] – Ara Vartoukian

ALKAN : Symphony for solo piano • Concerto for solo piano (Paul Wee) (2019) SACD | FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

The backstory is a marketer's dream: pianist Paul Wee was a child prodigy who was playing concertos with major orchestras by 12, traveled to New York to study, but then abandoned his career to study law and became a successful London barrister. Except he didn't abandon it. Wee not only continued to play; he specialized in the music of Charles-Valentin Alkan, the mid-19th century composer whose works are still rarely recorded due to their sheer difficulty. In 2015 and 2016, he gave a pair of recitals at the Alkan Society in London, and a tape was sent to the BIS label in Sweden. The end result was this release, perhaps the first one to contain both Alkan's Symphony for Solo Piano and Concerto for Solo Piano. Both works, part of a larger series of etudes, are technically hazardous but find room for symphonic effects in the former and "tutti" and "solo" markings, Alkan's own, in the latter. Sample the 30-minute first movement of the Concerto for Solo Piano. It is a sheer storm of notes that taxes the stamina of any pianist who attempts it, but it contains expressive interludes to which Wee does justice. There are other recordings of Alkan on the market, notably those of Marc-André Hamelin, whose style Wee resembles, but there are none with a story as compelling as Wee's. James Manheim
Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1-4.     Symphony For Solo Piano, Nos 4–7 Of Douze Études Dans Tous Les Tons Mineurs, Op.39    (26:16)
5-7.     Concerto For Solo Piano, Nos 8–10 Of Douze Études Dans Tous Les Tons Mineurs, Op.39    (51:30)
Credits:
Grand Piano, Liner Notes – Paul Wee

ALKAN : Esquisses, Op 63 (Steven Osborne) (2003) Two Version | APE & FLAC (image+.cue), lossless

The renaissance of interest in the reclusive and eccentric 19th-century French composer Alkan has been one of the more interesting developments of the last part of the 20th century but it has usually been his massive and virtuoso works (the symphony and concerto for solo piano for example) which have made the biggest impression. Throughout his life though Alkan was also a miniaturist, as 25 Preludes and six books of Chants show, and this interest culminated in undoubtedly the greatest of these cycles, the Esquisses (sketches) here recorded. This set of 48 pieces plus a final Laus Deo runs through all 24 keys twice with the Laus Deo returning the double cycle to C major. A huge range of mood and colour is represented from simple folk song to etude, not forgetting the bizarre, as can be seen in the tone clusters of Les Diablotins or the schizophrenic Héraclite et Démocrite.

This cycle has only been recorded complete once before. With Steven Osborne applying his colour, virtuosity and interpretive insight we are confident we have produced a recording that will permanently raise the stature of these pieces in the musical world and add a significant milestone in the Alkan discography. Hyperion
Charles-Valentin Alkan (1813-1888)
1-12. 48 Esquisses Op 63 - Book I
13-24. 48 Esquisses Op 63 - Book II
25-36. Esquisses Op 63 - Book III
37-49. Esquisses Op 63 - Book IV
Credits :
Piano [Steinway & Sons], Liner Notes – Steven Osborne
Front Illustration : Hercules and the Hydra (detail) (1875/6) by – Gustave Moreau (1826-1898)