Rebeca Omordia piano
RESONUS RES10372
This is a most rewarding issue from a leading advocate of Ireland’s piano scores, and one endorsed by the John Ireland Trust, who contributed to its production.
Notwithstanding classic recordings by Alan Rowlands, Eric Parkin and Daniel Adni, the standard collection of Ireland’s piano music is now Mark Bebbington’s four CDs on Somm. Rebeca Omordia, an academic, who has recently completed her doctoral thesis on this repertoire, has also collaborated with Bebbington.
Her presentations of Ireland, which are by no means mere imitations, reveal fresh beauties in this remarkable music, although the differences in approach are occasionally most apparent. In the luxurious central movement of Ireland’s superb Sonata, marked Non troppo lento, Omordia’s sonorous account is nearly three minutes faster than Bebbington’s, and this necessarily results in a broader, but no less valid, exploration of its landscape.
One of the stiffest tests for any Ireland pianist is The Scarlet Ceremonies, the coruscating finale of Decorations. For this reviewer, Adni’s clarity remains unsurpassed; but both Bebbington and Omordia find, in their slightly faster pacing, exactly the right improvisatory yet menacing heart of the piece. Omordia also employs more pedal, which surely aids the surmounting of Ireland’s fiendish right-hand figuration. The bubbling rivulets of Amberley Wild Brooks are a joy, the roulades of April are thrown off with confident delicacy, and there is a welcome spring to Bergomask, its curious half-ragtime companion.
Sarnia, Ireland’s homage to the mysticism of the Channel Islands, is a major work, completed after his rapid departure from Guernsey just before its invasion in 1940. Bebbington’s opening movement is poised and magical, but here Omordia is closer to Adni, summoning darker and more urgent sorcery through richly ominous tones.
We are in no doubt that something wicked this way comes, even if it is clothed in heavy velvet. Omordia also avoids the trap of self-indulgence in the gloriously enticing In a May Morning, relishing its opulence while preserving the lines. The closing Song of the Springtides, essentially a longer look at the shimmering sound-world of The Island Spell, has all the requisite foam-flecked imagery that may be drawn from Ireland’s added-note harmonies and thematic shapes. As a pendant to the recital, there is a fine and shapely performance of the stand-alone Columbine.
The disc was recorded in the warm and natural acoustic of Potton Hall Suffolk, and the informative and well-presented booklet is well up to standard. A highly recommended issue, and an excellent introduction to Ireland’s oeuvre.
Review by Andrew Plant