Amy Chastek writes:

>I disagree with JH's sumation.  Hough is truely one of the century's
>keyboard titans but for the life of me, he does mainstream repetiore
>crummily.

Wrong adjective, in my humble opinion.  If Amy had written "differently,"
then I might agree.  I knew Stephen as a student at Juilliard (he arrived
when I was just completing my doctoral course work), and have heard him
many times since, most recently on Monday in recital at Ravinia.  This
latest encounter with his playing was one of the finest yet.

He played a program consisting of the two-movement Haydn Sonata in C,
"Ghost Variations," written for him by George Tsontakis, Three Variations
by Federico Mompou, and the Liszt Sonata in B Minor.  Everything was as
close to immaculate as one will ever hear in live performance, and played
utilizing an extraordinary range of dynamics, with limpid pianissimo
playing of a rare order.  The Haydn was played without excessive fragility,
but in a manner which respected style and performance practice.  (In the
opening variation movement, the pedaling was slightly impressionistic, but
judging from Haydn's own markings in the late Sonata in C, this too may
be more appropriate historically than commonly admitted.) The Tsontakis,
played from score, was authoritaive.  I found the piece much more
convincing live than on CD, but still have yet to be totally persuaded by
it as a large structure.  All good musicians will tell you that easy is
difficult; Stephen's Mompou was an elegant object lesson in that paradox.
The sounds were fragrant, liquid, seamless, and melted in the ear like an
exotic fruit sorbet.

I have heard many live performances of the Liszt Sonata -- Arrau in Ann
Arbor, Alicia De Larrocha at the Kennedy Center, Horowitz at his Fiftieth
Anniversary recital in Carnegie Hall, professional colleagues in academia
like Jay Hershberger, Michael Gurt, and Paul Barnes, plus numerous other
student performances.  Stephen's performance on Monday was one of the
freshest and most thoughtful of the lot.  A colleague from Northwestern
agreed with me that Stephen's approach eschewed many of the traditional
rubati, tempo changes and dynamic excesses common to many performances.
Both of us vowed to go back to the score in the wake of hearing what he
did.  (I haven't yet had time.) His is not a "Russian" approach with big
sweeping lines which project to the back balcony of Carnegie.  He takes
time with lyrical sections and draws the audience in, forcing them to
listen.  At the same time, it had a sense of momentum and inevitability
which built from the fugue to an absolutely shattering climax, made
possible by not making too much of too many of the fortes.  (The "chorale"
theme in the recapitulation was absolutely gorgeous in its refusal to wax
overly bombastic.) It's not your standard competition-winner's Liszt, but
I value it all the more because of that fact.  Different, yes; crummy is
simply not a word I would associate with Hough, agree with him or no.

Of course, one can't speak of a Hough recital without mentioning the
encores.  He began with more Mompou, and then played his own concert
etude, a charming bravura throwback that scintillated along in the finest
Gabrilowich/Rosenthal manner.  Finally, he played his own transcription of
an operetta aria by Kalman, something to the effect of "These Lips which
No-One Has Kissed." Stephen said backstage that he had been listening to
Richard Tauber recordings, and wanted to see if he could emulate Tauber's
extravagant rubato.  No problem there -- it's in his blood.

DPHorn, wishing his playing were so crummy.