There are literally dozens of versions of this very 
          coupling in the current catalogue. This particular recording has been 
          released in various guises in the past, and now makes a return on the 
          Eloquence label. Although there are many good things in the performances, 
          it is difficult to give it much more than a muted welcome, even at budget 
          price, in the face of some of the competition. 
        
 
        
I will say straight out that, overall, I preferred 
          the Rhapsody to the Concerto performance. This is mainly 
          because Yuri Ahronovitch, a rather extrovert conductor, and his more 
          thoughtful soloist, the ever-reliable Tamas Vasary, appear to be at 
          one in their general aim. The brisk opening tempo is suitably exciting, 
          and the chimerical changes in mood are well handled by the partnership. 
          Vasary gave us many excellent Chopin discs in the seventies, and it 
          is no coincidence, I feel, that he is at his very best in the lyrical, 
          or more ruminative, sections. Thus, the chorale-like chords in Variation 
          7 are beautifully weighted, and the almost improvisatory feel of 
          Variation 11 has piano and woodwind counterpoint nicely balanced. 
          The orchestra and soloist enjoy themselves enormously in the big, Tchaikovskian 
          Variation 18, and Vasary is certainly not lacking in bravura 
          or virtuosity where required. However, turning to some of the competition 
          reveals playing greater depth and poetic insight. Earl Wild’s stunning 
          disc with Horenstein (on Chandos), really takes some beating. Wild had 
          (and for that matter still has) a technique to rival Horowitz (or even 
          Rachmaniniov himself), and he revels in the intricate finger patterns 
          and cascading octaves, which are nonchalantly dispatched. There is plenty 
          of poetry too, and Wild has such a natural feel for the mood-shifts 
          in this music, that returning to the relatively muted Vasary is rather 
          cruel. 
        
 
        
The Concerto suffers more of the same, I’m afraid, 
          for this time we get a rather lethargic orchestral accompaniment, with 
          orchestral climaxes curiously uninvolving. The famous big tune of the 
          finale simply fails to take wing, and turning to either Wild, or Ashkenazy 
          (with either Previn or Haitink) shows a different level of excitement 
          and commitment. The slow movement probably comes off best, with Vasary 
          again showing us what a fine and sensitive pianist he could be, but 
          overall this music needs an extra dimension to really engage the listener. 
        
 
        
One thing the disc is useful for is the reminder, however 
          brief, of truly great pianism from Lazar Berman – when on earth will 
          EMI re-issue his legendary second recording of Liszt’s Transcendental 
          Studies? This tiny selection of preludes only serves to highlight 
          deficiencies elsewhere on this disc. The brooding B minor prelude 
          is suitably dark and full of Slavic melancholy. The D major is 
          a ray of light, but still has an uneasy undertone in Berman’s hands, 
          whilst the famous (or even infamous) C sharp minor emerges as 
          fresh and original as ever. 
        
 
        
These very brief items will probably not be enough 
          to salvage the disc for most general collectors, who can choose from 
          an embarrassment of riches in this repertoire. Notes are as brief as 
          usual, and recorded sound is full and rich, though not as open as some 
          rivals from the same period. 
        
 
        
        
Tony Haywood 
        
        
        
AVAILABILITY  
        www.buywell.com