Album Review: French Etudes by Margit Rahkonen
If you're into classical music with a twist of modern flair, Margit Rahkonen's French Etudes might just hit the spot. Released back in '94 on Finlandia Records, this album dives deep into impressionist and modern vibes, showcasing some serious piano chops. The whole thing feels like a love letter to French composers Debussy and Saint-Saëns, but it’s Rahkonen’s fingers dancing across those keys that make it unforgettable.
Let me tell ya—this isn’t your grandma’s background music (unless she was super cool). Tracks like "VII - Pour Les Degrés Chromatiques" and "X - Pour Les Sonorités Opposées" really stuck with me. That chromatic piece? It’s got this sneaky, slippery feel, like every note is trying to outwit the last one. You can almost picture someone tiptoeing through a maze of sound. And then there’s the sonorities track—it’s bold, sharp, and kinda wild, like two opposing forces having an argument but making beautiful noise while they do it. I couldn’t help but replay these a few times; they’re intricate yet totally absorbing.
One thing that stands out about Rahkonen’s playing is how precise she is without losing any warmth. She doesn’t just hammer out notes—she makes them sing, whisper, shout, whatever fits the moment. Take "I - Pour Les ‘Cinq Doigts’," for example. Sounds simple enough at first glance, right? But when you listen closely, it’s clear she’s pouring emotion into something so minimalistic. It’s kinda magical.
And hey, props to Finland for backing this project. There’s something refreshing about hearing such polished artistry come from a place known more for saunas than symphonies. The label did justice to Rahkonen’s talent here.
Now, if I’m being honest, not every track will grab you instantly. Some of the etudes take time to sink in—they’re complex little beasts—but once they click, wow. They stick around in your head like earworms you actually want to keep.
Reflecting on this album, it strikes me how timeless it feels. Even though it came out nearly 30 years ago, it doesn’t sound dated. Maybe because good music never really gets old. Or maybe because Margit Rahkonen somehow bottled lightning—or should I say, bottled Debussy and Saint-Saëns—and shared it with us mere mortals.
Oh, fun fact: listening to this made me realize my cat has zero appreciation for impressionism. He walked out halfway through. Guess he prefers jazz? Who knew?
Anyway, give French Etudes a spin if you’re up for a musical adventure. Just don’t blame me if you find yourself zoning out mid-conversation later, humming random arpeggios.
