This box is a very
mixed bag in more sense than one. The
original recordings are of very differing
ages, the oldest probably Firkusný’s
Dvořák
concerto, licensed from VOX and sounding
1960s. (By the way, neither the designer
of the box cover nor the anonymous author
of the booklet text seems to be aware
of the inclusion of this recording.
Otherwise the booklet gives very informative,
and up-to-date, information about
the pianists but none whatsoever about
the music.) There is also a mix of studio
recordings and live performances, a
mix of analogue and digital recordings,
and listening to several of them in
a row you can’t help noticing the differences
in recording quality and in acoustics,
but listen to one or two at a time and
it doesn’t matter, and who would think
of listening to six concerto discs in
one or two sittings, anyway? Not even
a reviewer, I would think. The title
of the set reads "The
Great Piano Concertos” (my italics)
and there is no questioning that all
of these, possibly excluding the Dvořák,
are Great concertos, but
the definitive article implies that
there are no other great concertos around
– and there are. To justify the The,
I would have liked to see at least a
couple of Mozart works: the D minor
and the C minor and the A major (No
23) the most likely. I would also have
included the Brahms B flat major and
why wasn’t Grieg allowed to take part?
The 20th century is also
under-represented. Of course the Rachmaninovs
are there but they belonged to a bygone
era even when they were new. The Ravel
is there – it’s one of my personal favourites
across all categories – but Prokofiev
wrote five, of which at least No 3 belongs
to the great ones, we do have Bartók
and Shostakovich and, from the new world,
Gershwin’s in F. But that would have
been a very large box indeed, so why
not mentally put in a little "Volume
One" on the front of the box and
hope for a "Volume Two" in
the near future, including these aforementioned
works?
After this carping
(why do reviewers always have to be
so negative?) over to the actual contents
of the box. I started with CD 1 and
worked through them in chronological
order and I am going to discuss them
in that order too. I didn’t make many
comparisons with other recordings since
it’s the overall quality of the box
that counts and comparisons can be left
to the individual listener. Most readers
probably have most of these works already,
so before I started working I posed
two questions: A. If I know a young
person just beginning a record collection,
will this be a good start? B. If I am
a jaded collector with loads of concerto
recordings on my shelves, can this still
be an interesting addition? Maybe I
shouldn’t forestall my final verdict,
but to my ears the answer to both questions
is YES!
On CD 1 we meet the
former Tchaikovsky Competition Winner
Nikolai Lugansky, a pupil of Tatiana
Nikolayeva and one of several child
prodigies in this box. He has a formidable
technique, but this is not just a show-off
performance – there is also a lot of
poetry in his playing. This, Rachmaninov’s
probably very best composition, is one
of the most challenging in the concerto
repertoire, both technically and emotionally.
The melodic material is not as catchy
as in his number two but it lends itself
better to a symphonic treatment. The
orchestra sounds a bit anonymous in
the first movement but in the opening
of the second we are given very beautiful,
soft string playing and the soloist
responds in the same manner when he
enters. It may be my equipment that
makes the orchestra sound a bit congested
in the first two movement but for some
reason there is much more clarity in
the third. There is an impressive build-up
of dark tension before the very end,
where pianist and orchestra together
bring the work to a grandiose conclusion
in true Warner Brothers’ style.
Ravel’s G major concerto,
which follows with far too short an
interval after the Rach 3, is given
a truly great performance. The sound
is superlative, analytical yet warm,
Lopez-Cobos draws tremendously precise
playing from the orchestra (the RPO
on top form) and Hélène
Grimaud, another former teenage star,
plays marvellously. Hardly anywhere
else in his oeuvre is Ravel as inventive
and as humorous as in this concerto’s
outer movements. No ice cold calculation
here; just listen to the end of the
first movement, swinging frantically,
while in sharp contrast, the second
movement is so beautifully hushed with
a whole palette of piano and pianissimo
nuances from the soloist. Listen also
to the lovely woodwind solos: the flute
after c 3 minutes and at 6:10 the plaintive
English horn. The short presto finale
is one intense explosion with boisterous
playing from all sections of the orchestra.
This must be one of the best G Majors
available.
On CD 2 we get a majestic
reading of the Tchaikovsky B flat minor,
recorded live in 1987 by a 16-year-old
Evgeny Kissin with Gergiev conducting.
The well known start of the first movement
has rarely been more powerfully played,
both soloist and conductor pulling all
the stops. It is a really big sound
but still not over blown, and when we
are past the first 3˝ minutes there
is a lot of marvellous pianissimo playing.
Gergiev is of course one of the great
Tchaikovskians around – I remember a
great Mazeppa performance at Savonlinna
some years ago – and he ensures that
the delicate woodwind scoring in the
slow movement is brought out. Generally
there is a good balance between soloist
and orchestra and even if I at the moment
is a bit exhausted after playing the
concerto twice at high volume, I will
certainly return to it when other versions
seem too well-behaved.
The Dvořák
concerto, written in 1876, the year
after his lovely fifth symphony, is
an agreeable work, worth an occasional
listen but not on a par with his cello-
and violin concertos and lacking the
typical Dvořákian fingerprints.
The sound picture is more distant
and thinner; the strings can appear
a bit under-nourished. Turning up the
volume produces a fuller string sound
but also a boomier bass. The legendary
Rudolf Firkusný (b. 1912) was of course
a compatriot of Dvořák’s and should
have this music in his blood
and it is not his fault that some of
it gives a bland impression. The first
movement at 18 minutes feels overlong.
The second movement is atmospheric,
giving the feeling of a calm late summer
evening but also a prevailing sadness.
The third movement is lively but – anonymous.
It’s good though to have this recording,
at least for historical reasons.
When we move over to
CD 3 we are in historical territory
of a different kind. It was recorded
live on March 27, 1984, in the Grand
Hall of the Moscow Conservatory by a
12-year-old (!) Kissin. The recording
has been released before. In the west
it was for a while available on Olympia
and in 1996 it appeared on RCA. The
concert was/is a miracle. First of all
the sheer stamina of the child (photos
from the occasion show a boy who looks
even younger than his actual age) who
plays both the Chopin concertos – plus
a handful of encores (the latter were
included in the RCA but not here)! Moreover
Kissin is not only up to all the considerable
technical demands, he is also a mature
interpreter. He plays phrase after phrase
of Chopin’s wonderful melodies to perfection.
There isn’t a dull moment on the CD.
The Moscow Philharmonic also contribute
admirably under Kitaenko, but in these
concertos it is the soloist who is constantly
in the lime-light. What is typical in
both concertos is that Kissin – and
the conductor – move things on without
for a moment sounding hurried. There
is a natural flow in the music. Still
I was surprised to find that the only
other recording I have on CD (Idil Biret
on Naxos; another recommendable version)
is so much slower. Her E minor concerto
is more than 8 minutes longer than Kissin’s!
I wish that Kissin of today was as flexible
and spontaneous as twenty years ago.
CD 4 is another Russian
live recording, made as far back as
December 1976. Here we meet two noted
Beethoven specialists, Emil Gilels and
Kurt Masur. If both concertos (Beethoven’s
third and fifth) were recorded on the
same occasion I don’t know. Just as
in the other live recordings in this
box there are very few signs of an audience
present, apart from the applause in
the end which are very quickly faded
out. The recording, though, shows its
age. The piano sound is a bit clangorous
and the orchestra not as focused as
you could wish, but my ears soon adjusted
and after that it was a pleasure to
hear Gilels wonderful legato playing,
especially in concerto No 3. In No 5,
which is the more outgoing, I have a
slight feeling he sometimes switches
to auto-pilot. But even then he is attractive
to listen to.
On CD 5 we meet the
least well-known of these pianists.
Klára Würtz is Hungarian
and has studied for among others Zoltán
Kocsis. Today she is professor of piano
in Utrecht but has a busy career as
a chamber musician and soloist, not
least in the US. She has also made nearly
20 CDs, among them the complete piano
sonatas of Mozart, some Schubert and
obviously a lot of Schumann. She gives
a well-balanced reading of the ubiquitous
second concerto by Rachmaninov, and
if that sounds like damning with faint
prize I must hasten to add that balance
is what this concerto needs. It can
be played heart-on-the-sleeve with inflated
gestures to show off the pianist. Klára
Würtz has all the technical prowess
but she isn’t showy, she never exaggerates
and that is all gain. After all a considerable
part of this concerto is lyrical and
the celebrated "Full Moon and Empty
Arms" in the third movement is
so much better for being slightly under-played.
I happened to listen to Anthony Quinn’s
famous 1960s recording where he says
"I love you" in so many different,
and equally expressive ways, and it
struck me that "Full moon ..."
can be a musical equivalent. I liked
very much Klára Würtz’ inflections.
Even better is her
Schumann. His music can also be over-played
and it is a relief to hear her natural
way with this oft-heard music. Again
it’s the lyricism that is so striking
with her interpretation; listen especially
to her lovely shaping of the second
movement. These are, by the way, brand
new recordings, made in February and
December 2003, respectively.
Coming, finally, to
CD 6 I immediately was bowled over by
the marvellous playing of another child
prodigy. Brazilian Nelson Freire, according
to the booklet, "made his first
public appearance at the age of four"
and at 12 won the international piano
competition in Rio de Janeiro, playing
Beethoven’s Emperor Concerto. After
that he has had a very successful international
career, famous not least for his cooperation
with Martha Argerich. I have ever since
the 1960s admired a recording of the
first of Liszt’s two concertos, made
by the then only middle-aged Earl Wild.
Nelson Freire has the same combination
of steely-fingered lyricism. The dark-hued
Totentanz, which is a paraphrase on
Dies Irae, shows the same qualities:
fantastic fireworks and subtle pianissimo.
Backed up by the Dresden Philharmonic
led by the ever-sensitive Michel Plasson
and recorded with great presence in
the atmospheric but not over-resonant
Lukaskirche, this is another winner.
Summary: there may
be individual readings of some of these
works that are even better, but taken
as a whole and considering the give-away
price, this box is worth anybody’s money.
It doesn’t cost much more than your
usual bag-in-box of claret and will
last much longer.
Göran Forsling