Occasional murmurings about the greatness of Noel Mewton-Wood 
                  (1922-1953), the Australian pianist who committed suicide at 
                  a tragically early age, swelled to an underground reputation 
                  when the British Music Society reissued his recording of the 
                  Bliss Piano Concerto (see 
                  review). I have to confess I had not investigated his art 
                  before now. A brutally truncated career can give rise to all 
                  sorts of legends and I have yet to be convinced that Dino Ciani, 
                  for example, was more than just a very good pianist. On the 
                  strength of this Chopin I’d say Mewton-Wood was among the greatest 
                  of recorded pianists, his early death a loss on a level with 
                  that of Lipatti or Kapell. 
                  
                  In Chopin his playing has great panache and passion, alternating 
                  effortlessly with moments of delicacy and of melting poetry. 
                  His tonal gradations and colouring in the gentler passages can 
                  be appreciated in spite of the problematic recording quality. 
                  His rubato is very free, yet without losing the rhythmic shape 
                  of the phrase. Similarly, his tempi change with a certain freedom 
                  but he never loses sight of the larger structure of the music. 
                  In this latter he is helped by the sympathetic direction of 
                  Walter Goehr. The Zurich orchestra is not always immaculate, 
                  but he invests the orchestral tuttis with unusual fire and warmth 
                  while giving Mewton-Wood full rein in piano-led episodes. Goehr 
                  seems entirely identified with the spirit of the pianist’s interpretation, 
                  he is not just accompanying. In some ways it could be said that 
                  Mewton-Wood was able to combine the old-style personalized approach 
                  with a more modern rigour. 
                  
                  One of the finest-ever performances of this work put on disc, 
                  then, so what about the recording? 
                  
                  Like most of Mewton-Wood’s recordings, it was made for the Musical 
                  Masterpiece Society, which notoriously cut economic corners. 
                  The technology was not of the best for its times and pressings 
                  were poor and noisy. This same performance can be downloaded 
                  freely from the site of M. 
                  René Gagnaux. Gagnaux has taken a special interest in the 
                  MMS and has also transferred Mewton-Wood’s recordings of Beethoven’s 
                  Fourth Concerto and the first two of Tchaikovsky. His catalogue 
                  of Walter Goehr recordings is extensive and fascinating. 
                  
                  Gagnaux tells us that he made his transfer by combining the 
                  best passages of two copies from his own collection and a third 
                  made available by another collector. There is a heavy surface 
                  swish throughout but the sound is vibrant and alive, the piano 
                  close and sometimes clattery in fortes, especially in the higher 
                  range, but warm and involving. The orchestra is also close, 
                  sometimes a bit confused but full and, again, involving. The 
                  oboes sound very acid, but the Suisse Romande oboes sounded 
                  similar so I suppose that’s how the Swiss liked them. All in 
                  all, the performance comes across convincingly. 
                  
                  Given that all this costs nothing but internet connection and 
                  a blank CD to burn it on, you may take the line that “if it’s 
                  free there must be something wrong with it”. So if you pay the 
                  far from exorbitant price for the Pristine transfer, what do 
                  you get? 
                  
                  First of all, Andrew Rose has succeeded in reducing the surface 
                  noise to virtually nothing. Even on headphones I detected no 
                  background. But can this be done without filtering out a good 
                  part of the music too? At the outset the orchestra is far duller, 
                  with the husky string sound typical of heavy noise reduction. 
                  The effect is almost that of a drastically cleaned up pre-electric 
                  recording. The piano, too, is duller, much of the light has 
                  gone from the sound. There’s also some wow at the beginning 
                  of the slow movement. The more delicate moments are attractive 
                  in a moonlit way, but the overall impression is that Mewton-Wood 
                  is playing an elderly upright piano rather than a grand. Both 
                  pianist and orchestra sound to be further away from us in this 
                  transfer, too. In the last resort the performance itself sounds 
                  less remarkable. So no contest, I’m afraid. 
                  
                  The Stravinsky was transferred as one of the fillers on the 
                  BMS Bliss disc – in the absence of other British repertoire 
                  set down by Mewton-Wood. I haven’t heard this. 
                  
                  The modern tendency is to treat Stravinsky’s neo-classical works 
                  with a certain dispassionate elegance. Stravinsky himself, as 
                  conductor, left no doubt that these works stemmed from the same 
                  volcanic personality as had penned “The Rite of Spring”. I am 
                  here talking of Stravinsky’s performances of his neo-classical 
                  works in general, I don’t know a Stravinsky-led version of the 
                  present piece. Mewton-Wood and Goehr provide real conviction 
                  and a blazing, barbaric splendour. Mewton-Wood’s tonal beauty 
                  emerges in the few passages – such as the beginning of the slow 
                  movement – where it is relevant. 
                  
                  Stravinsky was notoriously antipathetic to the idea that the 
                  performer was also an interpreter. Whether or not you agree 
                  with him where other composers than himself are concerned, his 
                  own music does not essentially require an “interpreter” the 
                  way Chopin does so this performance, excellent as it is, tells 
                  us rather less about Mewton-Wood. Any collector who takes my 
                  advice and downloads the Chopin in Gagnaux’s transfer needn’t 
                  regret the loss of the Stravinsky all that much, therefore. 
                  Those who buy the Pristine CD will note that in a patch of the 
                  slow movement the surface noise is so strong that Rose does 
                  not attempt to eliminate it. On the whole the sound is livelier 
                  here than in the Chopin. 
                  
                  I hope I’ve made it clear that Mewton-Wood is a pianist who 
                  demands investigation – but the present disc is not the place 
                  to begin. 
                  
                  Christopher Howell