Susan Alexander-Max shows remarkable musicianship in this selection of Hummel works performed on an 1814 Brodmann fortepiano. Her playing is refined and engaging throughout, bringing out the full range of tone and colours of this Viennese instrument, which has no doubt benefited from being given a new action. Her affinity with the repertory is compelling, especially in matters of rhetoric and style.

The instrument's impressive range of possibilities is exploited from the very beginning of the recording: warmth of sustained notes, colourful staccatos, lyricism of the second subject and commanding orchestral effects in crescendos and fortissimos, all helped by the performer's strong rhythmic sense. This opening sets high standards and certainly proves that Hummel's piano works are worth performing on period instruments. Interestingly, the resonant Brodmann seems to lack the efficient damping typically found in most Viennese instruments of the time and could easily be mistaken for an English instrument. As it is, a fortepiano with both Viennese and English characteristics suits Hummel's music well.

This performance raises challenging questions about technique on period instruments. Since pianos of the time are generally considered to have less sustaining power and dynamic width than modern instruments, it is often believed that the bass cannot overwhelm the treble on these instruments. On this Brodmann, voicing does not seem so straightforward, however. Occasionally Alexander-Max allows left-hand chords to dominate (in the finale second subject of the E flat sonata, for example). Most of the time her cantabile lines are remarkably expressive, and it is clear to the listener that in these cases a particular effort is being made to emphasize the top line of the right hand, as if playing on a modern concert grand. The instrument she uses simply requires such an approach.

Another parallel with modern playing is found in Alexander-Max's projection of accents and fortissimos, which have at times a slightly percussive edge, hinting at her use of extra arm weight. With regard to English instruments of the time, however, Hummel explains that ‘passages which require to be executed with strength … must, as in the German instruments, be produced by the power of the fingers, and not by the weight of the arms; for as this mechanism is not capable of such numerous modifications as to degree of tone as ours, we gain no louder sound by a heavy blow, than may be produced by the natural strength and elasticity of the fingers’ (Johann Nepomuk Hummel, A Complete Theoretical and Practical Course of Instructions, on the Art of Playing the Piano Forte (London: Boosey & Co., 1828), Part 3, 64–65). Despite her use of arm weight, Alexander-Max's balancing of voices is more often than not remarkable, showing just how real a ‘seamless legato’ can be on period instruments.

Perhaps the whole of the Sonata in E flat major and ‘La contemplazione’ do not require the same degree of intensity as the Sonata in F minor, and one could choose to render them with more simplicity in slow movements and brilliance in fast movements. For example, cadential arrivals in these first two works benefit less from rhetorical delays than in the dramatic F minor work (a case in point is the opening theme of ‘La contemplazione’). Alexander-Max's interpretation of these lighter works, however, is refreshing in its thoughtful approach as well as its appealing eloquence and expressivity. Throughout the recording, her use of rubato is compelling. In the second movement of the E flat sonata, her use of agogic accents is simply perfect. The many rhetorical pauses, such as the one after the double bar in the middle of the same movement, let phrases ‘breathe’. Her interpretation of the term dolce, particularly in that movement (second theme), fully accords with Clementi's definition of dolce as meaning ‘sweet, with taste; now and then swelling some notes’ (Muzio Clementi, Introduction to the Art of Playing on the Piano Forte, (London: Clementi & Co., 1801), facsimile edition by Sandra Rosenblum (New York: Da Capo, 1974), 9). Indeed, pianists who dare to interpret dolce as anything but ‘bland’ are rare.

With regard to tempos, Alexander-Max's approach borders on the ‘modern’, with speeds that are generally slower than those commonly associated with historically informed performance. The finales of the E flat and F minor sonatas, marked Allegro con spirito and Presto respectively, are slightly held back, in a similar fashion to several late twentieth-century recordings of music of that time. The alla breve section in the F minor Presto is not taken as an indication to display dazzling virtuosity through an extremely lively pace, and the tempo change ancor più presto at the start of the long coda is not that noticeable (this may perhaps have something to do with the edition used for performance). One may hear Alexander-Max's interpretation of this movement as something like an Allegro vivace, though such a consideration is particularly subjective and the depth of approach of her performance more than compensates for this (one recalls that Mozart perceived Clementi's performance of ‘Presto alla breve’ along similar lines, yet one would nowadays have to be cautious to take this criticism too literally when interpreting Clementi's presto movements). One noticeable advantage of period pianos, however, is that they do readily allow for flamboyant virtuosity and fingerwork. Perhaps more use of this could have been made in fast movements, though once again the intensity of the performance and the care over detail bring genuine musical pleasure to the listener.

The duration of sixty-seven minutes for this recording is arguably on the low side. One may regret not being able to enjoy another Hummel work by this wonderful fortepianist. This is partly owing to the time taken by the repeat in the second movement of the E flat sonata, which is perhaps not entirely necessary, making the movement last well over eleven minutes. The other repeats are standard, yet one may here take the opportunity to question the widely accepted practice of playing repeats after the exposition of a movement in sonata form. Such repeats were usually written to familiarize a live audience with a new piece, but in a recording this need disappears. Thus the recording artist ought to divide repeats into two categories: necessary (that is, those that are considered to have a structural function) and optional (those that are considered conventional). This obviously requires subjective judgment, yet one may argue that in the present recording, the E flat sonata first movement repeat is less structural than its equivalent in the F minor sonata, for example.

There is much to admire in Susan Alexander-Max's performances. The F minor sonata, in particular, is convincingly projected as a great Hummel work. Traces of modern pianism are clearly noticeable in this recording, particularly with regard to accentuation and tempos. This is refreshing, though, for it does not make period performance ‘dated’, but truly alive and well. As in her Clementi recordings (Clementi: Early Piano Sonatas, volumes 1–3, Naxos (2003)), Alexander-Max shows a rare breadth of expression and tone that will surely convince many other pianists to explore further the wonderfully rich world of fortepiano performance.