I was talking to a well known critic recently who told me that 
                  he thought that Rubinstein ‘was an especially bad pianist’. 
                  Some critics have binary minds: A is good; B is bad, and so 
                  on. I doubt anything in this disc can serve to redirect a closed 
                  mind or one prone to melodramatic flourishes. Still, it should. 
                  
                  
                  This is a truly beautiful performance of the B flat major concerto. 
                  It’s never been issued before, which makes its appearance in 
                  ICA Classics livery, ex WDR Cologne broadcasts, all the more 
                  valuable. Naturally there will be those who point to Rubinstein’s 
                  discography and note that, in addition to the fast and loose 
                  1929 78 set with Albert Coates, we already have the 1958 Krips 
                  and the later 1972 Ormandy studio recordings. So indeed we do. 
                  But when a performance is as convincing as this one, and so 
                  well taped too, then one could wish for a legion of live performances 
                  from Rubinstein. 
                  
                  I worried that his first entry was too loud, but my ear soon 
                  adjusted and this despite the fact that the microphone is rather 
                  too close to the piano than is ideal for a really good balance. 
                  Almost immediately though one notices the excellent rapport 
                  between soloist and conductor. Rubinstein had known Christoph 
                  von Dohnányi’s father, so maybe that was a contributing reason 
                  – but I think rather that solid musicianship must have accounted 
                  for the notably fine ensemble, though in fairness one must note 
                  it’s not wholly watertight. Rubinstein’s sure sense of rubato 
                  is evident in the second movement, and the slow movement has 
                  a marvellous sense of chamber collaboration about it, not just 
                  the nobly restrained cello solo, or Rubinstein’s musing responses 
                  but later too, when the oboe, cello and piano entwine so wonderfully. 
                  The finale is galvanizing and outstanding too – pedants will 
                  note a few smudged passages, but the rest of us can listen to 
                  a performance of wonderful poise and purpose, at the end of 
                  which one feels both grateful, and happy. 
                  
                  The remainder of the programme comes from a solo recital Rubinstein 
                  gave in Nijmegen in 1963. Other items from this performance 
                  have been released before but this quintet of pieces is making 
                  its first ever appearance. He shows a commanding control over 
                  the rhetoric of Brahms’s Rhapsody, marrying passionate drama 
                  with reflective intimacy, but never at the expense of the music’s 
                  spine. Chopin’s Nocturne is possessed of texture and colour 
                  and the most subtle of rubati. The waltz is suffused with Rubinstein’s 
                  charm. After a brief announcement, in German, he launches into 
                  a truly daemonic rendition of de Falla’s Ritual Fire Dance. 
                  
                  
                  This brings the disc to a volcanic end. It’s a treasurable one, 
                  offering lasting virtues, and performances of subtlety, warmth 
                  and humanity. 
                  
                  Jonathan Woolf