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There was a time when recordings of the complete Preludes and Fugues were rare pearls. Following the completion of the work in 1951, many pianists showcased selected movements of the cycle in the concert hall or on disc, including the composer (who etched the first recording—of the Prelude and Fugue no. 23—on 78rpm in 1951). [ …] Since then, full-cycle editions have become less infrequent [..] and to commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of Shostakovich’s death in 2025, two new recordings by Yulianna Avdeeva and Sofia Sacco were released. 

Sofia Sacco is a prolific performer and teacher, working in her home country of Italy as well as the UK, Germany, Spain and Belgium. She recently toured China with recitals in Beijing, Shanghai, and five other major cities. As a young pianist she was drawn to Bach’s music, later winning First Prize at the Bach International Music Competition. She studied with Rustem Hayroudinoff at the Royal Academy of Music in London, after which roads inevitably led to the Russian repertoire, including Shostakovich and his Bach-inspired Twenty-Four Preludes and Fugues. Sacco made the interesting decision to release, also in 2025, a high-quality video of a performance of the full cycle (not the same interpretation as on CD), which can be viewed on YouTube.

Important in a work on such a scale, it’s worth noting that Sacco’s tempo leans towards the interpretative average, as do, for example, versions by Scherbakov, Stone, Ashkenazy, Donohoe and Levit (all of which total between 140 and 147 minutes for the cycle). This contrasts with Petrushansky’s extraordinarily protracted version of the piece (184 minutes) and Jarrett’s stirringly swift rendition (135 minutes). All three of dedicatee Tatiana Nikolaeva’s versions are slower than this average at 153, 168 and 166 minutes (1962, 1987 and 1990 respectively). Although she was close to Shostakovich, including working with him during the work’s creation, Nikolaeva unilaterally ignored many of the metronome markings included by the composer, preferring a much slower tempo in, as a good example, the first Prelude.

Unlike many versions of this opening Prelude in C major, Sacco’s approach is far from simple, or simplistic: in her interpretation the movement’s phrasing and dynamics feel deeply personal, almost apprehensive, and as will become apparent throughout the set, she is prepared to model the rhythmic clay on which the work is built in a sense that alludes to the baroque cornerstones of the form, while acknowledging Shostakovich’s individual modernism. Likewise, the Fugue is unusually hushed at its opening in Sacco’s recording, slowly building through delicate touch and expression. 

A note about the sound: Sacco’s relatively close-up recording favours the intimacy found in movements such as this first Prelude and Fugue.

The fiery A minor Prelude not only demonstrates Sacco’s impeccable technique but leads immaculately into the spiky Fugue that follows, during which she imbues the music with tiny rhythmic divergences from the norm, adding to the tension (reminiscent of Melnikov’s recorded, and live interpretations).

Although Sacco points out in her booklet notes the f–ff nature of the dynamics in the G major Prelude (no. 3), she introduces transitional sections in mp–p to subtle effect in her recording. Compared to, say, the first Nikolaeva version of this Prelude, which lacks almost any dynamic variation, Sacco’s Prelude is considerably more arresting, and better contrasts with the following, virtuoso Fugue which she performs at the breakneck tempo marking (dotted crotchet = 126), unlike most other performers, to dramatic—almost reckless effect. […]


Prelude and Fugue no. 5 in D major brings calm and humour back onto the stage, with the distinctive arpeggiated chords in the right hand whimsically driving the music forward, in what Sacco described as “impressionistic”. The partnering Fugue is described by Sacco as “comic,” and here once more she introduces what I’d describe as short intakes of breath, resulting in a quirkiness that is indeed comic (I’d also mention Melnikov, whose brilliant and daring rendition of this Fugue is pure dramatic comedy.) 

The above interpretative traits are continued through the following two Preludes and Fugues. In the eighth Prelude and Fugue in F-sharp minor Sacco’s pedal is very subtle, facilitating the lilting nature of this long movement. Shostakovich famously included almost no pedal annotations for the entire work, leaving choices to individual interpreters. For what it’s worth, Shostakovich’s own recording from 1952 features phrasing that is much closer to Sacco’s in this section. 

The ninth Prelude in E major has a deliberate sense of a dramatic incertitude, achieved through the finest of touches, especially in the upper voices, that sets Sacco’s interpretation apart. 

According to Tatiana Nikolayeva, in the tenth Prelude Shostakovich changed the initial tempo marking of crotchet = 120 to crotchet = 132 after her concert performance of the opus 87 cycle. Sacco errs on the side of the original tempo but in no way does the Prelude appear to tarry, and in the exquisite Fugue, that Nikolaeva likened to an unhurried, melodious folk song, Sacco offers the opening motive a retrained, deep sound, shaping the melody.

[…] Prelude and Fugue, no. 16 in B-flat minor, inhabits quite another world. Sacco excels in the Prelude’s theme and four variations, with elegant phrasing and intonation. Similarly, she finds a touching intimacy in the chaconne that precedes the Fugue, after which the intertwining of Baroque and Russian folk song thematic material reflects Shostakovich’s own rendition of this Fugue, including the minute attention paid to the complex rhythmic shifts that permeate the movement. 

In the Prelude and Fugue no. 17 in A-flat major, Sacco deploys a lighter touch. In the Fugue, she distinguishes the four voices well, using the same technique of “sub-phrasing” as found elsewhere in the set, with a light, transparent sonority. In the following Prelude, in F minor, she conveys the music’s sorrowful nature. Likewise, the Fugue, intoned with melancholy benefits from Sacco’s slightly slower tempo. […]

The penultimate Prelude and its corresponding Fugue (no. 23) are set in F major. Sacco here provides her own distinctive version of the Prelude, providing Shostakovich’s heartfelt melody with colourful modulations, heartfelt and beautiful. Sacco’s individualistic reading has truly a great deal of merit. 

And to the pièce de resistance: the Prelude and Fugue no. 24 in D minor. These celebrated movements (often performed in their own right) constitute a monumentally dramatic conclusion to the cycle, and in a sense release much of the tension that has gone before. Sacco structures the piece to perfection, with the various themes and episodes emerging in what she describes as “a slow, tortured intertwining of voices”. The appearance of the extraordinarily hushed pianissimo (actually played ppp) at the beginning of the Fugue, building inexorably to the closing fff is a truly fitting conclusion to this Shostakovich masterpiece. 

As already mentioned, there are several versions of opus 87 in the catalogue. Sacco offers a reading that is deeply engaged, lucid and direct, and is highly recommended.

Alan Mercer, DSCH Journal