The Australian pianist, Gil Sullivan, recently released the album Hidden Voices, Mozart Piano Sonatas, Volume III on the Hunnia Records label. It includes sonata Nos. 4, 9, 8 by the very young Mozart (even No. 8 was written in 1777 when Mozart was merely 21) as well as No. 16.
I found the interpretation of Mozart's work by Sullivan was very engaging and sustained my great attention and curiosity to hear what Sullivan was about to do next. The title Hidden Voices at first glance should point to Sullivan’s carrying of Mozart’s inner polyphonic voices. But the title also made sense in the following way — Sullivan is placing a microscope over the music and revealing hidden ‘expressive practice’ all over the place.
The moment you press play, do not expect merely sugar coated chocolate (with cream added) sounds and predictability, and do not assume Sullivan is going to play in the way that is presently fashionable. What is fashionable now and what was fashionable then has not a great deal in common; though many wouldn't know it, and possibly wouldn't want to know if they had the chance. We have not only the literature describing how composer-pianists performed, but also some important rare recordings by early living composer-pianists, born even in the early 1800s, that are pretty revealing. A good example is Carl Reinecke, born 1824 for which we are fortunate to have many roll recordings. Sullivan has a lot more in common with Reinecke than what you hear repeated again and again today. I'll try to get to the essence of what this means.
Mozart's phrasings are rather unusual to our modern ears. It would be much simpler task for Sullivan to play the works complying to the conventions specific to our current time — which we invariably mistakenly view as universal. In the quest for meeting the most minimal scrutiny, some pianists, inadvertently or not, enjoy this strategy. Sullivan doesn't. It is far harder to play what Mozart actually phrased. Sullivan's playing is thoughtful, calculated and rich with ideas. Even with popular movements such as the Andante of Sonata No. 16, the work is presented as a new invention, as if Gil had just recently worked on it and presented it as a new composition. Fans of familiar recordings, wanting a repeat of what they have been indoctrinated to enjoy, may gasp.
To enjoy the great artistic value in the recordings, let me warn that they do demand serious attention, or I would go further and say 'participation'. Sullivan's recordings, like Reinecke, in particular allow you to observe some real interpretation going on — for which I mean observing the act of interpreting itself, if you see the distinction. As I wrote at the outset, you don't listen to Sullivan for sugar, but to experience your own discovery, along with Sullivan, and an unfolding of ideas. You really want to listen to Sullivan whilst concentrating, not whilst driving — or maybe you can go for it, but you might be in for some trouble. Your insurance company won’t understand your explanation that the Mozart interpretation required your attention.
Sullivan goes out of his way to read Mozart's markings diligently. I heard in an interview that Sullivan read - “many times” - Mozart's 614 extant letters in order to feel the character in Mozart much more than most. At the first pass, I wondered if the playing lacked a rhythmic accentuation to provide the dance-like, or folk music, quality within Mozart. Probably, but other people will differ. Sullivan's ability to alter the touch, the pedaling, the use of crescendos and diminuendos, and so on, are so richly and resourcefully applied, and always with a purpose, whether structural or marking a novel harmony or other change.
Listening to these recordings — I played them over many days whilst walking amongst nature, and not in any order — I learned to place my attention less upon the direct outward sound, and more upon Gil Sullivan's inner thought process. Without doing so, one could be inclined to mistakenly glance over the real substance, and real soul, of these recordings. When doing so, you may be in for a beautiful experience.
It is heartwarming to hear one, even if amongst only a few, modern pianists bucking the modern trend of rinse and repeat performances of the classics. As far as my intuition goes, I'm pretty sure Mozart would approve.