Not all Kapell’s Concerto performances are entirely
unproblematic but these are amongst the very greatest of them. The Concerto
dates from 1950, the Rhapsody from almost a year later; the former with
the loyal and affectionate accompaniment of William Steinberg, the latter
boasting the gimlet-eyed and shatteringly good Fritz Reiner. It’s true
that Kapell was a virtuoso in the modern manner but his Concerto performance
is neither steely nor remotely over sentimentalised. Taking Horowitz
as his pianistic model and elevating clarity and precision brought its
own considerable rewards. There are numerous examples of Kapell’s balancing
of technique and intimacy. His gradients from piano to forte are properly
weighted and he gives considerable value to the rhythmic impulses of
the first movement of the concerto. He also ensures that his fabled
clarity is accompanied by audibility in his passagework. His left hand
brings out often-submerged detail but never incongruously or irrelevantly.
In the slow movement he employs some sharp accents at an unexceptional
tempo. He is sometimes cool, not cold and in the finale there is no
trace of brashness or vulgarity whatsoever. This is playing remarkably
respectful of its pianistic antecedents.
In the Rhapsody he has the distinct advantage of Reiner’s
conducting of the Philadelphia Orchestra – called the Robin Hood Dell
Orchestra for contractual reasons and accompanists in the Concerto as
well. There are some glittering orchestral colours here: chattering
woodwind, Kapell’s skittering runs; in Variation 7 Reiner moulds the
rise and fall of the bass’s counter-theme with tremendous control and
with meltingly affecting violins at the close. Kapell is crystalline
in Variation 10 and in Variation 12 Reiner encourages beautifully entwining
clarinet figures and horn playing - a perfect example of Reiner’s sensitivity
and sagacity in matters of orchestral balance and momentum. Or listen
to Variation 22 with its string playing of the highest beauty of tone
at quite a fast tempo. The transition from Variations 27 to 28 is effervescent,
witty, sharp-edged, and precise. Whilst Naxos makes much of Kapell’s
"blistering intensity and electricity" what emerges from the
grooves of these recordings is rather his balanced virtuosity and a
musicality that never sacrificed sensitivity to sentimentality, bravura
to bombast. Whilst I wouldn’t necessarily prefer these recordings to
the classic Moiseiwitsch they are nevertheless memorable and necessary
additions to the catalogue.
Jonathan Woolf
William Kapell, piano