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发表于 2004-1-8 15:10:50
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Hopefully, my overall enthusiasm for the marvels of the "Great Pianists of the 20th Century" Edition is amply evident from the foregoing column concerning the first half. Now that the remaining fifty volumes have been released, I'd like to update my recommendations to cover some highlights of the rest somewhat more expansively without the constraints of print limitations:
• Geza Anda - Just call this volume Geza Anda's Greatest Hits. Anda is best remembered for one of the greatest early triumphs of crossover marketing, in the ancient times before soundtrack albums. His ravishing 1961 rendition (at the keyboard and conducting) of the andante of Mozart's Piano Concerto # 21 in C was popularized as the theme from the 1967 Swedish romantic film Elvira Madigan, which then returned the favor when Anda's original album was reissued with a wistful cover portrait of the lead actress and became a smash hit - deservedly so, as the performance is truly exquisite, lush but with ample respect for Mozart's chamber sonority. The net result: even today, the Mozart 21st is still known as the "Elvira Madigan" Concerto. Among classical buffs, though, Anda is better remembered for his fabulous idiomatic set of the Bartok Piano Concertos with Ferenc Fricsay and the RSO Berlin. Connoisseurs further revere Anda for his deeply contemplative set of the Chopin Waltzes, waxed in his final half-year. All three performances comprise this fine edition.
• Martha Argerich (b. 1941), volume 2 - Beyond exciting accounts of the Schumann Second and Liszt b minor Sonatas, the emphasis here is on Chopin, including the complete Preludes and Third Sonata. Argerich's approach provides a clear rebuke to classical gender stereotyping: the Chopin of Anda, Cherhassky, Moravec and other guys in the Great Pianists Edition oozes soft, gentle, nurturing sensitivity - "effeminate," if you will - while Argerich's is aggressive, bold, temperamental and edgy. There's lots of beauty, but it's the type that emerges in contrast to rough, elemental power. There's also plenty of romanticism here - not the pale, wispy pining sort, but one that seems to better reflect the ardent, fevered, emotional tumult of a young, conflicted composer. This is a stunning collection.
• Jorge Bolet, Volume II - Here's another superb Liszt collection to place alongside the Horowitz, Cziffra and Ogden volumes. But even beyond its intrinsic splendor, this set highlights the glory of the medium of recordings, which we often disparage in favor of concerts. Indeed, Bolet's own volume I is devoted to a stunning 1974 Carnegie Hall recital, the liner notes to which carp that Bolet was far happier before an audience, and suggesting that his studio work was cautious and less inspired. But that's simply not true. While concerts and records are surely different media, neither is inherently superior to the other. The edgy fireworks of a concert are indeed thrilling to experience (and indeed are fitting to keep the attention of the audience) but can tend to wear thin over repeated hearings. Great studio recordings, intended to be savored in private, can wield a more subtle but perhaps more lasting power that transcends the moment. While avoiding the the greater visceral excitement and risk-taking of a concert, Bolet's studio Liszt exerts a unique spell - confident, relaxed, finely-structured, and assertive without being overwhelming. Take, for example, the Harmonies du Soir. Richter's stunning live 1958 Sofia version (on his Volume I) builds to a shattering climax, rendered in white heat with blazing virtuosity, leaving the listener drained with exhaustion. Bolet's, though, gleams with a subtlety that could get lost in the concert hall, pulsing instead with an ebb and flow of fluid feeling, lifting you up and letting you down gently in the peace of your home. The marvel begs to be heard again as soon as it's over - a special type of magic that only recordings can conjure.
• Robert Casadesus (1899 - 1972) - The perceptive notes by Farhan Malik pinpoint the "problem" in attempting to describe Casadesus's art - you really can't. Casadesus is perhaps best heard as a bridge between centuries and cultures. Born in 1899, he may have been the "last great pianist of the 19th century" and indeed, although allied with the French modernists, his style was of the old school - heavy rather than elegant, with lots of detail subsumed into structural attention. The first disc is devoted to Baroque (Bach, Rameau and Scarlatti), with precise articulation imbued with feeling and inflection, and early Beethoven (the Sonata # 2), gentle and light. The second disc begins by documenting one of the great duo-piano teams on record - Robert and his wife Gaby, who imbue Faure's Dolly Suite and especially Debussy's En Blanc et Noir with exquisite feeling and deep emotional coordination; it's a shame that the Six Epigraphes Antiques, its original LP companion, is omitted, despite ample CD capacity. Robert then flatters Faure solo pieces with his devoted attention. The set concludes with his 1947 Ravel Piano Concerto in D for the Left Hand with Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra, which is not only deservedly famous in its own right but also rings with authority stemming from the close association between performer and composer.
• Christoph Eschenbach (b. 1940) - Here is another bold, exciting performer who transforms everything he encounters with sensationally clean articulation into a vibrant, living experience. But for every rule there's an exception, and here it's a more earth-bound Beethoven First Concerto with von Karajan, to whose literalism Eschenbach bends his own inspiration to produce a strong if characterless reading in which the extended four-minute cadenza and an exquisite adagio speak more eloquently than the rest. The rest of his program is both generous (both discs run over 80 minutes) and striking - breathtakingly swift Haydn sonatas, precise and eloquent Mozart (the "Ah, vous dirai-je, Maman" Variations and the Sonata in F, K. 332), sparkling early Schumann (the "Abegg" Variations and Op. 4 Intermezzi) and a sharply-etched Schubert Sonata in A, D. 959.
• Edwin Fischer, volume 1 - Nowadays we are so used to "authentic" period renditions of Bach played with phenomenal precision on original instruments that we tend to forget that there is another way to approach this most universal of all composers. Fischer is a glorious throwback who plays his Bach on the concert grand with an exquisite velvet touch and boatloads of personal inflection. While his renditions of three piano concertos and excerpts from "The 48" are revelatory, especially startling are three fantasy pieces, in which his free-wheeling departures from modern interpretive expectations are especially strong and uniquely compelling. Which style is truly the more authentic? From a purely emotional point of view, they're equally valid and only serve to prove the futility of aesthetic arguments in face of the transcendent universality of Bach's timeless art.
• Edwin Fischer, volume 2 - Fischer's first volume is devoted to his lovely, rich, old-fashioned Bach. The second, exploring the rest of the core German repertoire in which he specialized, is fueled by two marvelous concerto recordings. His 1933 account of the Mozart Concerto # 20 is lean, pointed, vital and heartfelt without sentimentality. His 1951 reading of the Beethoven Emperor with Furtwangler and the Philharmonia generates a far different excitement, charged with spiritual drama from the closely-attuned philosophical interplay of soloist and conductor deeply immersed in German tradition. The second disc presents the Mozart Fantasia in c minor, K. 475, the Schubert Impromptus, D. 899 and the Beethoven Appassionata and Op. 110 Sonatas, all played with a direct, natural, self-effacing and utterly convincing manner that sounds ineffably right. Fischer's art is not colorful, but it has infinite degrees of careful shading.
• Leon Fleisher - This set, to me, is a sadly missed opportunity. Although not by choice, Fleisher has established a unique reputation as a champion and superb interpreter of the literature for the left hand alone. All we get here of it, though, is the Ravel Concerto for the Left Hand. Fleisher's performance is superb, but it's hardly unique; indeed, those of Katchen and Casadesus are included in their volumes of this same Edition. The rest of the Fleisher set consists of his youthful records of Liszt, Copland, Mozart and Weber sonatas, recorded prior to the mid-sixties when he lost the use of his right hand to a nervous affliction. Fine as these are, the producers missed a great opportunity to present Fleisher in a realm in which he alone reigns supreme. The left-handed literature may not overflow with great masterpieces, but it provides a fascinating demonstration of using musical resources to overcome fearsome limitations. And perhaps that is the ultimate value of such pieces -- they epitomize the wonder of art, which uses everyday materials within structural confines to lift us above the physical world into a far more extraordinary and limitless one. The portrait of Fleisher presented here is one of sad regret, of a brilliant standard career cruelly cut short by tragedy. More valuable would have been the musical proof of an intensely uplifting human drama of triumphing over crushing odds. We can hear lots of great Liszt and Mozart (even in this very Edition), but to whom else can we turn for a Toccata by Takacs?
• Andrei Gavrilov - The notes attempt to neatly divide Gavrilov's career (so far) into two phases - that of a youthful firebrand in Russia, and then a mature international outlook after his emigration in 1984. But this simplistic chronology is belied by his passionate 1993 Bach French Suite # 6 and a wistful 1973 Handel Suite in d minor. Rather, this program boasts brilliant virtuosity, constantly evolving and consistently serving the cause of a wide variety of music - a strongly characterized Chopin Ballade # 2, exciting Tchaikovsky Theme and Variations, a probing Mozart Fantasia in d minor, a potent Prokofiev Concerto # 1, rich Rachmaninov Moments Musicaux, a fiery Scriabin Sonata # 4 and wondrous excerpts from Prokofiev's Romeo and Juliet ballet, all capped by a stunning account of Balakirev's Islamey. The only curiosity is a weighty Schumann Papillons that emerges more as an iron butterfly than a dappled flight of imagination. Both in variety and execution, this is a breathtaking volume.
• Walter Gieseking, Volume 2 - I'm deeply torn over this set. Artistically, it's consistently sensational and it ends with one of the greatest piano recordings ever made - Gieseking's 1937/8 Ravel Gaspard de la Nuit. The exquisite subtlety of Gieseking's touch, the astounding color he conjures, and the sheer flow of his notes are absolutely breathtaking. And yet, much of the wonder is ruined by miserable transfers. In a sadly misguided (and largely unsuccessful) attempt to reduce the surface noise (of which plenty remains), the music is stripped of both bass and treble, leaving a boxy, synthetic sound that barely resembles a piano. Both the original LP transfer on Columbia ML 4773 and a prior CD on Pearl 9449 preserve the tonal richness and convey the depth of Gieseking's extraordinary sound. Such a shame! Equally lousy transfers diminish the marvels of Debussy's first book of Preludes and his Estampes. Swift and precise readings of the same vintage of Beethoven's Waldstein and Appassionata Sonatas come across somewhat better. If you can stand some increased "sizzle,"get the Pearl CD of the wondrous Debussy and Ravel.
• Emil Gilels, Volume 3 - The final volume devoted to the great Russian colossus emphasizes his lyric side. It begins with a 1972 account of the Brahms Second with Eugen Jochum and the Berlin Philharmonic that deliberately eschews the dramatic challenges of the work but reaches extraordinary expressive heights, especially in the ravishing andante (ironically the movement in which the piano plays the least role). There's also a rarely-heard Clementi Sonata and an intense and powerful account of the duo-piano Schubert Fantasy, D. 940 in which Gilels is partnered by his daughter Elena, who reinforces his full-blooded yet searching approach. Perhaps most fascinating, though, are the two Chopin Sonatas. Op. 35, from a 1961 concert, bristles with elemental energy and nervous tension, especially in Gilels' jagged shaping of the propulsive phrases of the first movement. Op. 58 (from 1978) begins with a burst of quirky passion but then subsides into a beautifully flowing, leisurely (30 minutes, rather than the usual 24 or so), autumnal discourse. Four gorgeous Grieg Lyric Pieces top off a wonderful tribute to a well-rounded and deeply sensitive artist.
• Grigory Ginsburg - Heard after the brilliance of Gavrilov, this volume serves as a reminder that traditional Russian piano playing is not the blinding virtuosity and thundering energy of Gilels, Richter or Horowitz, but a far more refined and contemplative style - a reflection of conservative Russian society before the Revolution, when ideals were far closer to European nobility than unleashed Slavic passion. Thus, in Ginsburg's hands Beethoven's explosive Rondo a capriccio in G, Op. 129, aptly titled the "Rage Over the Lost Penny," sounds more like Mozart annoyed than Beethoven in a fury. Ginsburg's grand style brings a fine sense of structural unfolding to six Liszt Hungarian Rhapsodies, Tchaikovsky's Grande Sonate in G, two transcriptions of Eugene Onegin and obscurities from Medtner and Miaskovsky. But don't mistake Ginsburg's approach for a masking of uncertain technique; the glissandi in his Hungarian Rhapsody # 10 are stunning and the Prokofiev Sonata # 3 is suitably brilliant. It just goes to show that sometimes smoldering embers can provide as much heat as a roaring blaze.
• Leopold Godowsky - Those who heard him in private considered Godowsky the greatest pianist of his generation, but he reportedly was intimidated by public performances and often sounds stiff on record. Indeed, the 12 Chopin Nocturnes heard here are charitably described in the liner notes as "earthbound," and that could be said as well of his Beethoven "Adieu" Sonata. The Schumann Carnival, Chopin Sonata # 2 and Grieg Ballade fare better, despite poor transfers; side 1 of the Grieg is badly damaged, unlike the transfer on Pearl 9133. Perhaps the finest piece is the Chopin Scherzo # 4, reconstituted from an acetate dub and a test pressing, in which, despite dreadful sound, Godowsky for once seems to catch fire and leave his inhibitions aside. But it's hard to separate one's reaction from the poignant circumstances of this recording - right after completing it, Godowsky suffered a stroke that ended his career; could he possibly have sensed that this might be his last performance?
• Glenn Gould - Here's a bizarre collection. Gould had a reputation as one of the most eccentric pianists, but somehow I don't think the producers programmed Gould's volume with Byrd, Gibbons, Scarlatti, Bizet, Strauss and Berg as a salute to his artistic personality. Gould was arguably the most important Bach player of all time. His deeply personal ideas were both praised as brilliant and reviled as perverse but never ignored. Here, though, they are wholly ignored -- we get not a note of his Bach (or even his equally controversial Beethoven). Rather, his volume is filled with throwaway stuff peripheral to his artistry. The liner notes forthrightly acnowledge this gaping lapse and gallantly try to infer Gould's greatness from bare hints derived from the stuff that's included. But why? I can only assume that the licensing process here fell more than a bit short of the love-fest of cooperation suggested by the publicity surrounding the Edition. I suspect that Sony, for one, kept all the best Gould material for its own recently-completed Glenn Gould Edition (which, incidentally, is a huge ripoff, full-priced but with many of its discs barely half full). It's also worth noting that the only two artists absent from the sampler volume of this Edition are Gould and his Sony label-mate Rudolf Serkin, and that according to the intended release schedule printed in the sampler Gould was to have had two volumes, but one of his two numbers was later reassigned to Gieseking.
• Frederich Gulda, volume 2 - The turgid excerpt in the sampler scared me away from his first, all-Debussy and Ravel volume. Here, though, are extraordinary performances - solidly classical but with brilliant touches of individuality. The Chopin Ballades are incredible, fast but not rushed and filled with invention and life. The Beethoven and Chopin Concertos # 1 boast chamber sonorities, decades ahead of modern, "authentic" versions. The liner notes, though, constantly tease with anticipation of the really great phase of Gulda's artistry that they claim would follow these ‘fifties records. Since Gulda isn't exactly a household name here in the Colonies, I'd like to have heard some of his real glories, but they're nowhere to be heard. The set concludes with a six-minute live jam with an unidentified jazz combo. Are the producers suggesting that jazz is a natural extension of traditional classical music (as indeed it is)? If so, then lots of other great pianists of the twentieth century beg to be included in future volumes - Jellyroll Morton, Fats Waller, Art Tatum, Erroll Garner, ...
Myra Hess (1890 - 1965) - Modern memories of Myra Hess tend to focus upon her unstinting service to her country in World War II, when she organized and participated in over a thousand concerts to boost British morale. This set memorializes her equally important service to her art. Hess's reputation was as a deeply serious artist, and at first her records seem uninspired and prosaic. But still waters do run deep and once her dignity and emotional reticence are accepted, they subtly radiate the profound peace and inner contentment of a mature master. Over half this volume is devoted to her superb Schumann. Her Etudes Symphoniques are dark and brooding, deeply burnished, with muted energy constantly smoldering beneath the surface. Her 1938 Carnival and an LP remake of the Concerto forego their inherent playfulness for autumnal gentleness and poetic restraint. (The notes attribute part of this to her aversion to recording, and indeed a contemporaneous live recording of the Concerto with Mitropoulos on AS Disc 627 is more inflected. But the intellectual and emotional control of her studio records creates their own power.) Her cerebral and magisterial approach crafts profound, beautifully-shaped and deeply moving experiences of two late Beethoven sonatas (Op. 109 and 110). But this otherwise fine celebration of a national and musical icon ends on a doleful note, with a stilted and cranky 1957 remake of her celebrated signature arrangement of Bach's Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring, whose crude dynamics and insecure rhythms are a cruel echo of her devout 1940 HMV version (available on Biddulph 025).
• Josef Hofmann (1876 - 1957) - The label sticker boasts that this set contains the bulk of Hofmann's approved recordings. That may be true, but it's an unfortunate one-sided portrait - literally, since nearly all consist of single 78-sided encores. They're marvelous in small doses, but hearing the entire set is something like making a two-hour meal out of nothing but hors d'oeuvres. Even so, the exquisite refinement, superb control and flawless technique that made Hofmann a pioneer of modern objectivity all manage to burst through the limitations of the acoustical process. Even the earliest (1903) are surprisingly effective, transcending the artificial demands, limited fidelity and compressed dynamics of the recordings. Beyond salon fluff ("Birds at Dawn"), there's some magnificent Mendelssohn, Liszt, Chopin, Scarlatti, Rachmaninoff and Moszkowski that display the refined purity of Hofmann's art. Most extraordinary is a double-sided Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody # 2 that hints at more emotional heat found in Hofmann's later, albeit "unapproved," recordings, now on VAI and Marston CDs. Perhaps the most memorable of all was the legendary November 28, 1937 concert marking the 50th anniversary of his Carnegie Hall debut. Electrified with a sensitivity and energy that eludes the studio sides, Hofmann gave stunning readings of the Rubinstein Concerto # 4, which he played in 189x following two years of study with the composer, his own neoromantic Chromaticon, a Chopin set and encores, ending with a Moszkowski Spanish Rhapsody with seemingly more wrong notes than right, and yet of overwhelming brilliance and power - a sensational tribute to his artistry.
• Vladimir Horowitz, volume 3 - A pleasant surprise. In lieu of the redundant Brahms and Tchaikovsky concertos originally scheduled, the producers have substituted a full disc of Chopin Etudes, Mazurkas, the Barcarolle and the "Heroic" Polonaise. Five pieces are given in two versions - EMIs from the early ‘thirties and RCA remakes from the late ‘forties. The readings are essentially similar, but serve to demonstrate the artist's evolution from driven, pointed early impulse to a more self-conscious display of bravura technique. The other disc contains two essential concerto recordings with Reiner and the RCA Symphony. The 1952 Beethoven Emperor is a perfect melding of temperaments of conductor and soloist to produce a clean, propulsive reading of a masterwork that sounds just fine as pure music, unencumbered by interpretive rhetoric. The 1951 "Rach 3" lacks the unabashed fire of the legendary 1930 Horowitz/Coates version but projects a confident swagger that nearly matches the authority of the composer's own 1940 recording with Ormandy.
• William Kapell (1922 - 1953) - In thinking of Kapell, it's so hard to avoid dwelling on regret over what might have been, had he not been killed in an air crash at age 31, his creative adulthood barely begun. It's clear from the records he left us that he would have been a preeminent pianist of our time. True believers will already have obtained RCA/BMG's complete 9-CD Kapell collection last year, but this volume provides a nice introduction for the unconverted. The solos on the second disc range from an electrifying 1945 Liszt Mephisto Waltz, bursting with coiled tension, to a deeply human 1953 Bach Partita # 4, meticulously recorded over four days. His Albeniz Evocacion is subtly atmospheric, his Liszt Sonetto 104 del Petrarca and Hungarian Rhapsody # 11 are scintillating, and his Chopin Sonata # 3 is a marvelous synthesis of power and lyricism. The first disc is devoted to the big, splashy orchestral works of his early fame, each superbly accompanied by a sympathetic conductor - the Rachmaninoff Concerto # 2 (Steinberg) and Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini (Reiner) and the Prokofiev Concerto # 3 (Dorati). But, fine as these overly-familiar works are, it seems a shame to have omitted Kapell's seminal recording with Koussevitzky of the Khachaturian Piano Concerto or, for that matter, his Beethoven Second with Golschmann, both of which he championed but neither of which are otherwise represented in this series.
• Wilhelm Kempff, volume 3 - Kempff should be cherished by record collectors for his pioneering integral sets of Beethoven, Schubert, Schumann and Brahms piano works, long before such projects became commonplace. Kempff's first two volumes in this series focussed on his somewhat bland Brahms and Liszt. Here, we have a fine overview of his art, in which he subsumed his personality to produce idiomatic readings of the core German repertoire, with structure and intellect overriding emotion and color. The program is creative and avoids overlap with other artists' volumes. Thus, in lieu of more popular fare, we get Mozart's Concerto # 8 in C, Brahms's Two Rhapsodies, Op. 79, Beethoven's Sonatas #s 2 and 11, Schubert's "Unfinished" Sonata in C, D. 840 and Schumann's Three Romances, Op. 28. The set concludes with a great surprise reminiscent of Gieseking - Faure's Nocturne # 6 in a quintessentially Gallic reading from a quintessentially German artist. While lacking the individuality of the golden age pianists or some of our modern iconoclasts, Kempff's artistry, in the right repertoire, is deeply satisfying and always seeped in artistic integrity.
• Stephen Kovacevich, volume 2 - His first volume was all-Beethoven; this one presents a more balanced program. The most astounding performance is a blistering, driven account of the Bartok Piano Concerto # 2 which makes the classic Anda/Fricsay version (also in the Great Pianists edition) sound downright romantic. Kovacevich brings the same clear, energetic, thoughtful precision to his Beethoven, Chopin and Brahms. This is one of the very few volumes of the entire Great Pianists series that delves into modern music, including fine versions of Stravinsky's Concerto for Piano and Wind Instruments, Bartok's Out of Doors and Sonatina, and Richard Rodney Bennett's powerful 1968 Piano Concerto # 1, written for Kovacevich and custom suited to his temperament and technical facility.
• Alicia de Larrocha, volume 2 - There's something about the bright Iberian sun that charges artists with a clarifying vision; it boosted Cervantes, Picasso and others to a level of transcendent insight, all while retaining an earthy naturalness, and it seems to have done the same for Alicia de Larrocha. The sole ambassador of Spain in this collection, her first volume was filled with readings of Albinez and other compatriots that were striking for their unpretentious clarity. Here, she casts a similar lucid eye to the baroque and classical repertoire which share much of the fundamental outlook of her countrymen. A whole disc is devoted to Mozart - the Sonatas, K. 310, 330, 331 and 576, and the Rondo in D, K. 485. All are sharp but never brittle, pointed yet comfortable, subtly implying depth without destroying their classical innocence. The same can be said for the Haydn Andante con variazioni in f minor and Handel "Harmonious Blacksmith" Suite. Her Scarlatti sonatas and Bach Italian Concerto and French Suite # 6, too, achieve a beautiful balance of courtly grace and life-affirming elan.
• Nikita Magaloff (1912 - 1992) - Perhaps it's really a tribute to the richness of the Great Pianists Edition and how deeply spoiled I've become from exposure to the consistent excellence of its performances, but the prospect of another Chopin recital was less than electrifying, especially from an artist better known for his elegance, nobility and technical refinement than for bold stylization or probing insight. Even so, the second disc here is a real grabber, simply because it bypasses well-worn Chopin favorites for such rarities as the First Sonata, Allegro de concert, Bolero, Tarantelle, Ecossaises, Rondo a la Mazur and Variations brillantes. Together with a Haydn sonata and Liszt's Six Paganini Etudes on the first disc, they're all welcome as a refreshing break from the repetitive programming that has dulled much of the initial enthusiasm (and, I understand, sales) generated by the earlier releases. (OK - there's also (yawn!) another Schumann Carnival.) Here's my plea to the producers: if this series is to continue, please dig deeper into the archives for more adventurous programming, rather than just more and more and more of the same standard stuff. Make this a voyage of discovery, not only of performing style but of repertoire as well.
• Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli, volume 2 - Whether or not he was the greatest pianist of his time, as some have claimed, Michelangeli surely was one of the least conventional and most controversial. With a repertoire narrower than some one-hit oldies groups and a reputation for bailing out of concerts worse than many temperamental rock stars, Michelangeli constantly fascinates by teasing expectations. His Brahms Paganini Variations are cut and scrambled (possibly to squeeze onto four 78 rpm sides) yet magnificent, Beethoven's Sonata # 4 is drained of its accustomed rhythmic elan, Schumann's Carnival is both deliberate (31 ½ minutes, as opposed to Rachmaninoff's 23 and Godowsky's 24) and disrupts the flow with long, melodramatic pauses between movements, excerpts from Schumann's Album fur die Jugend reflect more autumnal deliberation than youthful frolic, and ten Chopin Mazurkas and the Brahms KBallades, Op. 10 are deeply atmospheric and mystical. Wonderful, challenging stuff, and a welcome throwback to the days when artists' whims reigned supreme.
• John Odgen, volume 1 - This volume has the most painfully honest liner notes. Picture this: you've just spent $24 plus tax because you were attracted by the unusual repertoire in which Ogden specialized. Tired of multiple versions of the standard Chopin, Mozart, Liszt repertoire, you're eagerly anticipating your first hearing of the obscure Alkan Concerto for Piano Alone, which occupies most of the first disc and which the producers must have singled out from the Ogden discography for good reason. To enhance your enjoyment, you turn to the program notes for some insight into the delightful surprise that surely awaits. And what do you find? Well, not only do the notes disdain the piece as "disappointingly ordinary" but they then proceed to trash Ogden's performance as inferior to the competition ("… the finer spirit of the piece conceivably eluded him…") and conclude without disapproval that the LP was quickly deleted. OK -- let's give the writer an "A" for honesty. But really, guys, if the performance is all that dreadful, what's it doing here?
• John Ogden, volume 2 - Known for his love and advocacy of unusual repertoire (to which his first volume is devoted), Ogden's huge technique, phenomenal stamina, blazing commitment and vast emotional range, coupled with his probing intellect and sense of structure, were a natural fit for Liszt, to which one disc is devoted. The other disc, though, is even more wondrous - 70 minutes of Rachmaninoff miniatures, including the complete Op. 33 and Op. 39 Etudes-Tableaux. Usually relegated to encores or savored singly, these pieces emerge as a compelling cycle, with a cumulative effect abetted by Ogden's marvelous integration of the ebb and flow of their power and diffidence. The CD concludes with Ogden's stunning performance of Balakirev's fearsome Islamey, recorded live at the 1962 Moscow Tchaikovsky Competition, which floored the judges and netted Ogden a first prize (shared with Ashkenazy).
• Maria Joao Pires (b. 1944) - With an exquisite touch, every phrase is carefully inflected and alive with care and thought, yielding interpretations that manage to be deeply personal without becoming idiosyncratic, but rather reflect deep thought and consideration of how to present the musical essence. Over half this collection is devoted to four Mozart Sonatas, ranging from the deceptively simple K. 545 through the exotic "Turkish" K. 331 to the profound K. 333; all emerge full-blooded and adventurous, yet duly respectful of the composer's sensibilities, more akin to the youthful upstart of "Amadeus" than the gentle, dignified patriarch of classicism we have often come to accept and expect. The same qualities infuse the brief but startling cadenza of the Concerto # 14, with Abbado providing a nice orchestral foil. Three Chopin Nocturnes are restless, seeking something deeper than the peaceful meditations of Rubinstein and others.
• Sviatoslav Richter, volume 3 - The first of Richter's three volumes featured his celebrated 1958 Sofia concert and Prokofiev, while the second comprised Beethoven sonatas. This, his final volume, begins with a quirky 1959 Rachmaninov Second with Wislocki and the Warsaw Philharmonic that lurches between moods rather than integrates them, as nearly all other performances aim to do. Piano and orchestra often diverge; although the liner notes claim that this is a deliberate attempt to suggest improvisation, it sounds far less convincing and just sloppy. The rest of this collection, though, presenting six Rachmaninov Preludes, 12 Scriabin Etudes and Schumann's Waldszenen, Fantasiestucke, Op. 12, Fantasie in C and Toccata, is prime Richter - assertive, direct, richly satisfying, going right to the heart of the music - in a word, classic.
• Rudolph Serkin - Like the Glenn Gould volume noted above, this is far more a reflection of licensing problems than a tribute to a great artist. The first hint of trouble comes before you even remove the shrink-wrap - the back cover listing of contributing labels omits Sony, the successor to Columbia for which Serkin recorded exclusively during his entire mature career. In lieu of any of his memorable classics, we’re stuck instead with two early EMI recordings before his unique fire was fully kindled and four very late DG Mozart piano concerti after it was nearly extinguished. Thus, we are left to only infer his rigorous and powerful Beethoven from his first and somewhat tentative 1936 record of the “Appassionata” Sonata rather than the sweeping early stereo version that was popularized through dozens of LP compilations. Similarly, despite sparkling sound and sympathetic accompaniment by Abbado and the London Symphony, we can only glean from these deferential accounts of his ‘eighties tracings of Serkin’s precise but passionate Mozart collaborations with Szell and Schneider. Alas, by including four valedictory concertos when one would have sufficed, Serkin’s famous Schubert, Mendelssohn and Brahms are excluded altogether. The final delusion comes on the last page, where a list of other available Serkin recordings mentions only those few on EMI and DG, ignoring all the more consequential ones readily available on Sony, several of which are on their Essential Classics budget line. In sum, this is a bizarre collection that sidesteps and ultimately distorts the prime career of one of the greatest and most influential pianists of the century.
• Vladimir Sofronitsky (1901 - 1961) - An icon in his native Russia and hailed by such luminaries as Richter and Gilels as their master, Sofronitsky was barely known in the West, as his travels and fame were limited first by the Soviet regime and then by illness and addiction. A complete 1960 Moscow recital is available on Melodiya which displays more of the scope of his artistry from Mozart to Rachmaninov. This set, though, achieves a sharper focus by devoting an entire disc to each of his two favorite composers. Sofronitsky absorbed Chopin during studies in Warsaw; his mazurkas, in particular, startle with their sharp accents and bold rhythms - a bit crude, perhaps, but bursting with refreshing excitement. But Sofronitsky will be remembered above all for his Scriabin. Enthralled with this music from childhood exposure, he married the composer's daughter, performed on his piano and became a tireless advocate of his works. But more important than these biographical ties is the uncanny sense of artistic identification through which Sofronitsky projected Scriabin's bizarre music in a natural and throroughly convincing way - intensely atmospheric, powerful and emotionally involving.
• Solomon (1902 - 1988) - No, that's not a typo, but don't be duped by the name. You'd expect an artist using only a single one to be a flamboyant egotist, but Solomon's art was the precise opposite, harnessing polished virtuosity to the service of music. There's lots of excitement, but it's not from cutting loose but rather knowing that at any moment he could. Art, after all, is sublimation. Solomon's disciplined but vital intellect infuses the Beethoven "Hammerklavier" Sonata (which flows beautifully despite having been taped over 4 separate sessions), and especially its central adagio sostenuto (which at 22 minutes is very sostenuto indeed), making us hang on each shimmering note suspended in time. There's also a Brahms Handel Variations, classically reticent but with a full gamut of expression, a magnificent Bach/Liszt Prelude and Fugue in a minor, and wonderful Chopin and Liszt. A poignant addition is an August, 1956 Mozart Sonata in B flat, K. 333, Solomon's previously unpublished last solo recording before the stroke that prematurely ended the career of one of the true greats of our century. Incidentally, although all other volumes have the same notes translated into 3 languages, here the French set is different from the English/German ones. " ure, but never austere," they say, and that just about sums up the wisdom of Solomon as well as anything.
• Rosalyn Tureck, volume 2 - Bach's Goldberg Variations is a throwback to a culture light-years removed from our present age of constant and immediate gratification. The same could be said for this rarefied, magisterial performance. Glenn Gould and Wanda Landowska, arguably the primary Bach specialists of our century, took between 39 and 51 minutes in their recordings, but Tureck allots 94! Only part of the difference arises from repeats; the rest lies in the deliberate unfolding of a multi-layered masterpiece whose marvels deserve and repay careful scrutiny. The wondrous result is that each variation serves not only as a brick in the overall structure and a stepping-stone toward the conclusion, but establishes its own identity and emerges as an experience unto itself. And when that breath-taking conclusion does arrive - an unadorned repeat of the simple wisp of a theme that began the piece and generated such a universe of creativity - it carries the added weight of an entire evening of development. Also included are equally fine readings of the Partita in b minor, BWV 831, the Italian Concerto and four duets, BMV 802-805. (The complete Partitas comprise Tureck's first volume.) This is unique and distinctive Bach playing, magnificent in its own right and a worthy complement to the legacies of Gould and Landowska.
• Maria Yudina - I want to conclude on a huge upbeat. Until very recently, Maria Yudina (1899 - 1970), while a legend in Russia, was virually unknown in the West, and with good reason. She apparently was a dissident, both politically (she was one of the very few who apparently told off Stalin and survived) and artistically (she was a modernist in an artistically reactionary cold-war Russia). Not surprisingly, while others were allowed to concertize, travel and teach as a reward for their loyalty, her career sputtered through constant dismissals, bans and repression. Her only other CD, part of the ten-volume Melodiya Russian Piano School set, is of modern stuff, dutifully played but without fireworks. The prospect of her "Great Pianists" set featuring Bach's Goldberg Variations and Beethoven's Diabelli and Eroica Variations seemed pretty deadly. Here, I have to admit to an embarrassing personal prejudice - although these works are generally considered the apogee of the variation format (in which a simple melody passes through all sorts of permutations for an hour or so), they barely keep me awake. (Perhaps that's fitting, since legend has it that the Bach was commissioned by its patron to cure his insomnia.) Until I heard Yudina, that is. Wow! As Jimmy Durante (to whom she came to bear more than a passing resemblance) might have said: "Can that lady play the pianner!" Her playing is so devoid of frills or personal interpretive baggage, yet so full of conviction, so vivid, so utterly honest. I can't even imagine nodding off to such astoundingly verile work.
More than anything else, the Yudina set encouraged me to get many other volumes of the "Great Pianists of the 20th Century" edition in which at first I was only marginally interested. True, a few turned out to be duds, but more often than not there were delightful surprises. It's a tribute to the richness of music that no two listeners will ever agree as to a single list of the absolute "best" performances, and perhaps that's the ultimate significance of this Edition. No one will fully endorse the producer's selections, but there's some fabulous stuff from unexpected places that will deepen and enrich anyone's understanding and enjoyment of the huge body of piano recordings of the twentieth century.
Copyright 1999 by Peter Gutmann |
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发表于 2004-1-8 15:09:43
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