Vanessa Wagner plays Glass

“Etudes” are pieces many of us dreaded as piano students, knowing from the name alone they were somehow lesser than “sonatas” or “concertos.” Instructional by design, they felt oversupplied—each focused on one idea, mastered, then discarded.

Is that what Glass’s Etudes are?

He views the complete set of 20 etudes as a personal and inventive body of work that has become essential, popular repertoire for both amateurs and professionals.

Glass wrote the first ten (Book 1) in the 1990s, completing them in 2001; between 2004–2012 he wrote the second set. What’s striking is that he conceived them for himself—as late-career studies to strengthen his piano technique.

Vanessa Wagner, the French pianist behind this new recording, is touring them widely in her native France. I came to her album already familiar with the music, having heard multiple performances over the past decade.

Glass’s music has an uncanny consistency not everyone loves. I’d call it repetition—carefully sequenced harmonic progressions. His orchestral writing adds density, but in piano works we meet the material bare. This collection, though, is more varied than earlier solo efforts. I think this is among the examples of a pianist, again, improving the pieces over the renditions recorded by the composer.

That’s worth noting: my first exposure to Book 1 was Glass at the piano. (Even though I prefer Wagner as a pianist, I’d audition his recording. Its rawness still carries for me some emotional energy worth savoring.)

⸻

Sound and Recording

This release was recorded on a Yamaha CFX grand in a dry acoustic. It feels intimate, though the dynamics sound a bit compressed. While at first I considered this not my ideal piano sound, it suits the music. What works well in this recording is how the piano’s character truly emerges with strong dynamics. The Yamaha’s clarity in the bass and its shimmering treble timbre are well served here.

The liner notes, written by a Glass colleague, add background I hadn’t encountered, especially about his pragmatic need for etudes as fuel for his own performances.

⸻

Book 1

Wagner’s third etude is striking for its tempo and varied articulation. No amateur could make this sound so alive—it’s obvious from the third track we are in professional hands.

Her dynamic contrasts turn the piece cinematic. Having heard Glass’s music in film, I couldn’t help but imagine Manhattan’s bustle in her rendition.

Wagner’s treatment of the fourth etude is also special: she achieves a kind of orchestration in her performance of the left hand with a painterly effect. The next section is brilliantly realized with superior finger technique.

Comparing Glass’s own recording (4:39) with Wagner’s brisker take (3:46) is revealing. Composers aren’t always their best interpreters; Bach and Handel would be fascinating case studies if only we could hear them. Glass’s version sounds loosely tossed off, while Wagner brings polish—textures tighter, dynamics nuanced, the whole effect dazzling. One feels informal and rumpled; the other tailored, accented with diamonds.

Vikingur Ólafsson’s relaxed version of the fifth etude on DG also deserves mention. His touch is exquisite, and the atmospheric, reverberant piano sound contrasts with Wagner’s closer, darker recording. Both work, but differently: Ólafsson keeps us at a contemplative distance, Wagner seems almost within reach.

⸻

Book 2

The opening of Etude no. 11 showcases Wagner’s control of crescendo, later animated by terraced dynamics and articulation shifts.

Etude no. 13 reveals the dryness of the recording space, especially in its clipped opening notes. Its technical challenges—ascending runs across repetitive figures—never sound effortful under her hands.

Etude no. 15, often rushed by others, gains substance here. Wagner’s nuanced dynamics redeem a theme that otherwise can feel flimsy.

Etude no. 19 becomes a study in texture. Glass places melody in the lower range; Wagner’s careful voicing brings it out. Other pianists skim the surface, but she matches touch and resonance, shaping a piece that can otherwise feel amateurish into something compelling.

⸻

Conclusion

There are many recordings now available of Philip Glass’s etudes for piano, including full versions of the twenty pieces, including this new one by Vanessa Wagner. Compelling listens, I will admit, come from both Glass himself (Book 1) and Vikingur Ólafsson. As neither recordings are “complete,” we can turn here to Wagner’s.

Glass’s own performances have often left me wanting—his Amazon river cycle is another example where collaborators elevated his ideas beyond what he brought alone. Wagner, by contrast, enhances without distorting. Her interpretations respect Glass’s intent while revealing new dimensions.

She has clearly considered every detail—articulation, dynamics, color. Her Yamaha becomes a prism, bending each etude through different lights and shadows.

For me, this is now the reference recording of the Etudes: carefully judged, technically assured, and heartfelt. Other versions remain worth exploring, but Wagner gives us more to savor.