Alfred Brendel (piano)
Early Recordings – Volume 1
 Ludwig van BEETHOVEN (1770-1827)
 Fantasia in G minor Op 77 (1809) [9:18]
 Franz LISZT (1811-1886)
 Piano Concerto No 1 in E-flat major S.124 (1849) [19:05]
 Piano Concerto No 2 in A major S.125 (1861) [21:39]
 Wolfgang Amadeus MOZART (1756-1781)
 Quintet in E-flat major for Piano and Winds K.452 (1784) [23:21]
 Alfred Brendel (piano)
 Vienna Pro Musica Orchestra/Michael Gielen (Liszt); Members of the
    Hungarian Wind Quintet (Mozart)
 rec. 1957-1962
 Reviewed as downloaded from digital press preview
 BEULAH
    1PS86
    [73:23]
	
	For me, as I am sure it will be for many readers, listening to these
    sparkling new transfers from Beulah was a trip down memory lane. The
    cassettes available for free loan from the library in my particular part of
    Northern Ireland in the early 80s didn’t seem to go beyond 1970 in terms of
    recording dates but, assuming they still worked, what I got was some
    wonderful music making on labels like Vox and Turnabout. The star turn was
    always Alfred Brendel and/or the wind playing of an organisation
    mysteriously named the Vienna Pro Musica Orchestra. At the same time in the
    same library, I got my hands on an early edition of the Penguin Guide.
    Whilst Brendel certainly featured in its pages, it was never in these
    recordings. The poor old Vienna Pro Musica Orchestra seemed entirely
    missing. My ears kept telling me that this was great performing and many
    years later, when these recordings began appearing on CD, I got the chance
    to confirm the critical opinion of my younger self.
 
    There are plenty of opportunities to enjoy the woodwind of the Vienna Pro
    Musica Orchestra – or the Vienna Symphony as we now know them to be – in
    the Liszt concerto recordings on this first volume of a series dedicated to
    the early recordings of Alfred Brendel. Try the solo clarinet a few minutes
    into the first concerto. No later recording even gets close to the
    lyricism of this interaction of soloist and clarinetist. Not even Richter
    with Kondrashin on their celebrated recording, and certainly not the older
    Brendel in 1972 with Haitink – the Penguin Guide rosette it was awarded
    notwithstanding (those were the days!)
 
    There is a risk, in listening to these recordings, of viewing them
    exclusively as products of the artist in embryo. Instead of treating them
    as interpretations in their own right, they are seen as somehow student
    works. My experience, reviewing the Liszt concertos, has been that they are
    anything but. They stand comparison with the very best recordings,
    including the Richter already mentioned and Brendel’s own later account.
 
    The conductor always has a surprising amount to do with the success or
    failure of performances of the Liszt concertos. Gielen (only in his 30s at
    the time himself) is a very positive presence here from the first bar of
    the first concerto. It is easy to hear that Brendel and Haitink in 1972 are
    going for weight, though what I hear is sluggishness next to Gielen and
    Kondrashin for Richter.
 
    Both of the concerto recordings here sound like the music making of a young
    man – freer and more impetuous than Brendel’s later self – so I decided to
    compare them with more modern recordings by younger pianists of today. I
    started with Yundi with Andrew Davies from 2006 on DG and rather wish I
    hadn’t. The opening of the First Concerto sounds rather like someone
    energetically attempting to break down a wall and things don’t improve with
    the arrival of more lyrical material a few minutes later. Lang Lang, also
    on DG from 2011 and again in the First Concerto, has the advantage of the
    Vienna Philharmonic in fine form under Gergiev. I much preferred his touch
    in the quieter moments to Yundi’s but found his pulling around of the tempo
    much too self indulgent. The young Brendel, by contrast, is superbly
    lyrical throughout without any need to exaggerate the changes in tempo. I
    cannot think of any performances of these works, so often seen as virtuoso
    display pieces, that bring out the beauty of the writing more.
 
    It may have been fanciful of me but I couldn’t help recalling, at various
    points in listening to the Liszt, that Gielen and Brendel also recorded the
    Schoenberg piano concerto at this time. Whilst Brendel is much more
    romantic in approach here than he was to become later in 1972, these
    performances also show us Liszt the modernist. Sometimes it is an emphasis
    on a harmony here or the darkening of an orchestral texture there, but this
    is a vision of Liszt in keeping with Brendel’s 1980 recording of the late
    Liszt piano music for Philips. Listen, for example, to the restraint both
    conductor and pianist exercise in the final section of the second concerto,
    trusting the music to generate excitement rather than stampeding ahead for
    a grandstand finish. In the same section the sheer beauty and delicacy they
    draw out of Liszt’s orchestration is simply wonderful. The effect is
    strikingly close to Bartók.
 
    Beulah’s engineers deserve considerable credit: the sound is bright and
    clear but still warm and resonant. Comparing this issue in the form of a
    digital download with the CDs of the 1996 Vox Box, the older release sounds
    very dim and murky. Remarkably, the sound achieved on this release does not
    need to yield too much compared to the extremely good sound produced by the
    Philips engineers for Brendel in 1972.
 
    What really sets these Liszt interpretations apart from the later Brendel
    is a freedom and fantasy for which no amount of wisdom and experience can
    compensate. With Brendel’s Beethoven, perhaps, or Schubert, the benefits of
    experience are evident but in these concertos I will take the first
    thoughts of the young tyro over the older man any time.
 
    Beulah have chosen to place Brendel’s version of the Mozart quintet for
    piano and wind K452 between the two Liszt concertos. I fail to see the
    logic of this and chose to listen to the Liszt consecutively before turning
    to this fine account of the Mozart. This time, Brendel’s colleagues have
    not adopted a pseudonym and appear as themselves – members of the Hungarian
    Wind Quintet – and a fine, well blended ensemble they sound.
 
    As other recordings from this era can testify, Brendel was already, by this
    point, a formidable Mozartian. The first thing that becomes apparent when
    listening to this recording is how beautifully balanced it is. Each
    instrument has its own space without the piano overly dominating in the
    manner of a concerto. Surprisingly for such youthful musicians, the main
    part of first movement is more moderato than allegro. This is an enjoyable,
    relaxed outing for this lovely work. It may lack the oomph of Perahia’s
    recording with members of the English Chamber Orchestra from 1986 or the
    irresistible character of the famous performance led by Dennis Brain, but
    it can be warmly recommended.
 
    Kicking proceedings off we get a bright, alert take on the less well known
    Fantasia in G minor by Beethoven. Written in 1809 at the height of his
    heroic period, this piece may perhaps give us a little glimpse of Beethoven
    the legendary improviser. The sound here is a little brittle and, at
    moments, Brendel sounds like he is still getting his head and his fingers
    round the piece. I got a lot more pleasure from Jonathan Biss’ 2004
    performance on EMI. The younger man seemed to have a firmer grip on the
    work’s rhetorical gestures.
 
    To draw things together, what we get are decent Beethoven, very good Mozart
    and exceptional Liszt. Even those who already have these accounts on CD are
    urged to at least sample what Beulah have achieved with the sound.
 
    David McDade