This is arguably the
greatest of the four ‘live’ Richter
accounts of the Liszt Sonata. It has
the drama and power lacking (comparatively
speaking) in the 1966 Livorno performance
(Philips). There’s also a sense grandeur
and space missing from the over-driven
1966 Aldeburgh account (BBC Legends),
and he brings even more conviction than
in the wonderful 1965 Moscow reading
(Brilliant Classics). Taken from a Carnegie
Hall recital (part of a series he gave)
just a week after Horowitz’s famed ‘return’,
this is a towering achievement, a performance
of muscle and poetry. It has an incredible
sense of purpose, the whole work being
united with a structural grasp given
to only a few. One feels that Richter
has his sights set on the end right
from the beginning.
The opening semi-chromatic
descent is dark and abysmal, each note
taking the listener deeper into the
void. The pianissimo lyrical
sections take on a profound spirituality.
At 14’07" the huge but never forced
chords lead to right-hand octaves of
the most passionate cantabile and
fluid flexibility, which make one forget
the percussive nature of the piano.
Listen also to the subtlety of Richter’s
expression at 16’35", or the shimmering
colours he finds at 25’02" and
the amazing ease and lightness with
which he negotiates the difficult figuration
at 25’16". Indeed, this performance
demonstrates how Richter could readily
combine heart with intellect, passion
with stoicism and reserve, power with
tenderness; and never do these elements
conflict.
The sound is not as
good as for the Carnegie Hall recital
from 1960 on ‘Richter Rediscovered’,
but it is an improvement on the
1990 Philips issue, the last and only
CD release.
Funerailles gets
better and better after a slightly matter-of-fact
start, and Richter invests all the necessary
doom and gloom, sublimity and drive
to make this extremely impressive. The
selection from the Transcendental
Etudes from Moscow 1956 (he never
played the whole set, but these are
all the pieces he did play) are
a first release, in atrocious sound
but valuable since these are the only
1950s performances of Nos. 7, 8 and
10. The performances are on the rushed
and exaggerated side, with No. 2 in
particular pushed to distortion and
full of wrong notes, but Feux Follets
is utterly magical, though perhaps
less varied than the 1958 accounts from
Sofia and Moscow.
The liner notes are
substantial and interesting, and praise
must go to Palexa for reissuing such
rare recordings.
Alex Demetriou