After such phenomenal
early success, I suppose it was inevitable
that Evgeny Kissin’s career would meet
a ‘blip’. Actually, it’s only really
happened regarding some recent recordings,
and even then only because of the standards
he set himself with early ones, such
as the Carnegie debut and his Brahms
Paganini Variations disc. The
combination of barnstorming virtuosity
and mercurial temperament were well
displayed there, and they are now very
much on show with this excellently programmed
all-Russian recital.
Kissin really is on
home territory with this music. His
Chopin credentials are needed with the
early Scriabin Preludes, which pay homage
to the Polish master in a number of
ways – indeed, they sound at times like
‘wood chippings from the master’s workbench’
- to quote Simon Rattle on the young
Schoenberg’s Wagnerisms. They are attractive,
tuneful miniatures that hardly prepare
you for the more mature Scriabin to
come, except maybe in their improvisatory
freedom. The composer gave the Sonata’s
premiere in 1900, adding what became
a trademark-type subtitle ‘Soul States’.
Kissin delves deeply into this soul,
revelling in the murky harmonic waters
and blurring of bar lines that are becoming
evident as the composer experiments
with form and content. The work is clearly
structured in four movements, but there
is a rhapsodic freedom and wildness
that Kissin captures beautifully, showing
a touch more abandon than the otherwise
excellent Håkan Austbø
on his very recommendable set of the
complete sonatas (Brilliant Classics).
The slow third movement boasts one of
Scriabin’s most memorable tunes, a shimmering,
luminous figuration that Kissin turns
into something characteristically ecstatic.
It’s a marvellous performance that fully
realizes the composer’s description
of the sonata as ‘a tender and melancholy
sea of feeling’.
Talking of melancholy,
I’ve never fully subscribed to the Richard
Taruskin view of Nikolai Medtner as
‘a poor man’s Rachmaninoff’, though
comparison with that other great composer-pianist
is almost inevitable when you hear Medtner’s
music. The one-movement Sonata-Reminiscenza
has a wistful nostalgia that inhabits
a similar emotional terrain, but then
so much Russian music does. Kissin is
alive to the many varied mood-swings
and harmonic nuances that make Medtner’s
best music really very attractive. It’s
Russian playing in the best sense and
when I played Grigory Ginsberg’s classic
account (Philips Great Pianists series)
the inherited tradition, split hands
and all, seemed obvious.
You would think that
Kissin’s technical command would suit
Stravinsky’s Petroushka Movements
to perfection and, for the most part,
it’s as successful and thrilling as
it ought to be. This work has been dominated
on disc by Pollini’s staggering account
on DG, still available as part of a
recital of 20th Century piano
music. There have been other pretenders
to the crown, notably Lortie and Donohoe,
but none has ever displaced Pollini’s
electrifying blend of rock-steady rhythmic
stability and technical accuracy, even
in the face of near-insane pianistic
demands. Kissin is very different here,
not afraid to use lashings of pedal
(which Pollini keeps to a minimum) and
his own unique rubato. He allows
the music to breathe more than Pollini,
whose ice-cool clarity does suit the
music but is a shade unyielding and
hard. One feels an organic growth and
I was more aware with Kissin of this
being virtually a sonata rather than
a series of showcase encores. It’s very
hard to get Pollini out of your head
with this piece, so authoritative is
his account, but Kissin is definitely
more warmly recorded and on a better-sounding
instrument, so it’s perhaps best seen
as a viable alternative by another great
pianist of our time.
Liner notes by Steven
Wigler are good and, as mentioned, the
recording does not let the side down.
Despite being short-ish measure by today’s
standards, this disc finds the young
Russian on commanding and imperious
form.
Tony Haywood
Evgeny Kissin (piano) 
