I reviewed
Thibaudet’s previous concerto coupling of Grieg and Chopin 2 (DECCA
467 093-2) with somewhat lukewarm enthusiasm. There is rather more to
be said for this one, though it is the solo pieces which create the
strongest impression. In the first concerto in particular, Thibaudet’s
outer movements are very fast indeed and the impression is of a light,
rather superficial touch. Not that any notes are left unplayed, but
the scintillation factor that a Cherkassky in his prime might have produced
is not really present. Not for the first time we find the writer of
the booklet notes (excellent in themselves), apparently at odds with
what we actually hear. Jeremy Siepmann quite rightly points to the importance
of Rudolf Serkin’s "electrifyingly virile" recording in re-establishing
a work that had come to be seen as "the more or less exclusive
province of fleet-fingered young women". The trouble is, if Thibaudet
were a woman he’d be the fleetest-fingered of the lot. I don’t know
if Siepmann intended a knock at Moura Lympany, a notable exponent of
this concerto from the earliest days of her career, but her Readers’
Digest recording (last spotted on Ivory Classics IC70906 and worth having
if still available) sees her using tempi just slightly slower to produce
an altogether stronger effect, fluid and brilliant as required, and
also, thanks to an accompaniment from Sir Malcolm Sargent in particularly
good form, a less static andante compared with the somewhat pallid
beauty on offer from Thibaudet and Blomstedt.
Where Thibaudet and Siepmann do seem to be in line
is in their wish to promote the idea that the 2nd Concerto
is actually the finer of the two. Thibaudet plays the first movement
in particular with a passion that relates it more than usually to Schumann.
Still, the impression of a certain keyboard superficiality remains,
something which is decidedly not present in the solo pieces. Here the
recording itself is more closely focused, but I suspect the real difference
lies in the three years and more that separate the sessions – a lot
can happen to a young artist in that time. The call for scintillating
finger-work in, say, the eighth variation of op. 54 is met with absolute
command, nor does he lack a singing cantabile when needed. The final
presto is truly fearsome while the Rondo Capriccioso is suitably
mercurial.
I suspect Thibaudet will give us better versions of
the concertos one day. In the meantime, his many admirers have the Variations
sérieuses to rejoice in. How about the Songs without Words
next?
Christopher Howell
Gewandhaus Orchestra/Herbert Blomstedt*