Songs Without Words - as Mendelssohn might have heard them

As far as I can make out this new disc from Ronald Brautigam on the Swedish BIS label is the first release of Mendelssohn's solo piano music on the fortepiano. Andreas Staier has occasionally ventured into the composer's world, while Brautigam himself has recorded the concertos on a modern instrument, but this is the first opportunity to hear the Songs Without Words on something approaching the instrument for which they were written.

The booklet of this handsomely packaged release is a very good place to start, for it details the instrument used, modeled on a Pleyel similar to the one Mendelssohn himself used to play. As with many 'period instrument' performances it takes the ear a while to attune to the sound, but it's an appealing sound, and Brautigam's sense of ebb and flow with the phrasing is natural and well thought out. As a result he gives the listener plenty to enjoy.

The choice of tempo is the only recurring issue that might hamper enjoyment. Generally these interpretations are on the fast side, which suits some 'Songs' better than others, the rippling textures occasionally becoming choppy without the use of the sustain pedal. Compare this with the recordings of Daniel Barenboim, who in general spends more time with the music, shaping the melodic phrases more obviously than Brautigam in the faster music. A good example of this is Op.38/5 in A minor, which feels just a bit too fast and constricted, but the following 'Duett' in A flat major is just right, an affectionate amble.

The two 'songs' numbered Op.19/5 and Op.38/3 are also good examples of of a tempo taken much faster than might be expected, but the tempestuous G minor piece, Op.53/3, is an indication of where a robust approach works well. The 'Jägerlied', Op.19/3, is also well suited to the crisper style that Brautigam applies to it, and the Pleyel seems to be evoking a hunting horn. Meanwhile the last in the Op.53 book has plenty of charm and a good bit of humour, and the slight choppiness here is actually rather endearing.

In the slower pieces, when Brautigam takes time out, the results are enchanting. The slower numbers in E major (Op.30/3) and A major (Op.38/4) are given plenty of air, with a nicely subtle ending to the former that gives an indication of the intimacy that can be found by the best performers in this music. The first of the Op.38 book flows nicely, with some judicious ebb and flow of the tempo, while the following piece in C minor conveys well Mendelssohn's less conventional way with harmony.

Despite a few reservations, then, this is an interesting revival of pieces that have become well known to student pianists, but which have maybe become a bit complacent on the ear, a bit too familiar. Brautigam challenges that, and although he might not always be obviously successful, the music is thrown into a revealing context because of his approach. As such, his approach is important and fascinating.