13 Nocturnes (Thyssens-Valentin)

Faure's Nocturnes for piano contain much of his most profound musical thought. There are the charming, innocent, Faurian tunes in abundance but there is also much that is elusive and intensely moving and they are occasionally perplexing. These pieces usually require concentrated listening to appreciate fully.Many interpreters of the first rank have failed to come fully to grips with this repertoire but Germaine Thyssens-Valentin seems to have their full measure. She knew Faure and doubtless had the benefit of his comments when she performed these works. The recordings on this disc were made during the 1950s but the recorded piano sound is remarkably good for this era. Thyssens-Valentin's interpretations seem to lift a veil from the more 'difficult' pieces, taking you a step closer to full understanding.If Faure's music means anything to you, this disc will be a revelation.

I think that the other reviewer has entirely done justice to writing about this CD. Let me just echo the sentiments expressed previously in saying that this disc of Faure's music will entirely open your eyes to this music. With Germaine Thyssens-Valentin everything appears so naturally, every note is in exactly the right place and played with the subtlety that this music so requires.As Alicia de Larrocha did for Albeniz, so Thyssens-Valentin does for Faure. This disc can't be recommended highly enough for lovers of Faure's beautiful style.

This would possibly be the cycle of Faure works you would have to take as the most complete, along with the barcarolles, but the nocturnes are a bit longer ... there is a parallel with Debussy's preludes, as opposed to the more elusive and pared down world of the etudes; in both cases you need to have both. The nocturne is often seen to have reached its apotheosis with Chopin, but I find Faure's even more compelling and varied; it has something to do with their being harder to pin down. They seem to speak less exclusively of the night; the Romantic yearning has become something else that exerts an even finer hold that is closer to the vagaries of actual feeling, allied to a blueprint of the soul itself, or so it seems. Germaine Thyssens-Valentin plays with a feel for the idiom that has never quite been matched, I don't think. It is a kind of perfection, an evocation of a world that is constantly enriching and reflecting emotion like a prism refracts light. All life seems to be contained within these pieces, yet held at a distance which allows a certain tranquillity. And the more you live with them, the more they affect you in this way.