Struck down at the
height of his career by psoriatic arthritis,
Byron Janis, despite a come-back disc
some years ago, remains a ‘what might
have been’ pianist. Gramophone
spoke of his Rachmaninov 3 as ‘surely
among the few truly great Rachmaninov
Thirds on disc’. Janis studied with
Horowitz while a teenager in the 1940s
and the influence is there. Yet there
is a subtlety to Janis’s playing that
reveals a distinct intimate side of
Rachmaninov without belittling the virtuoso
element.
Janis’s technique is
never in doubt. It is a joy to hear
a pianist who uses such sovereign means
to interpret a composer whose music
is so obviously close to his heart.
Dorati partners Janis in the concertos
- the main body of the disc - and is
infinitely sensitive to his soloist’s
needs, both in terms of tempo fluctuation
and balance; the latter can be tricky
in Rachmaninov.
The Third Concerto
is placed first in playing order. Janis
shades the opening octave melody superbly
– it is obvious from the off that he
is completely at home here. Finger-clarity
is a model of its kind. This is no small
achievement in this work; listen to
the voice-leading around 8’30. Janis’s
light touch is constantly illuminating.
The cadenza is scintillating; a pity
the woodwind contributions are not as
subtle as can be imagined.
The slow movements
to both concertos have a lovely sense
of flow, with Janis sitting on the line
between improvised and controlled. Dorati
is fully in on the deal. You will hear
detail here you may not have noticed
in other recordings or live performances.
The cadenza in the Third finds Janis
letting his hair down. The lead-in to
the finale is magnificent. It is in
this finale that power and musicality
merge miraculously; Janis is not one
to pound the breast! There is a superb
sense of the dance about the entire
finale, and the natural ebb and flow
of the final pages has to be heard to
be believed. The LSO is on top form
throughout.
If the Second Concerto
does not quite attain the same heights,
it is memorable nonetheless. The Minneapolis
sound is a little more abrasive, particularly
noticeable in the big cello melodies,
but the sweeping romanticism comes over
intact. The end of the first movement
will tell you whether the recording
will detract for you or not, as it is
there that real lack of depth is fully
apparent.
The slow movement is
the highlight, pure magic from first
to last; in fact the close itself is
infinitely touching. The same light
touch remarked upon in the Third is
present here, working to tremendous
advantage in the finale.
Two concerto accounts
where crass virtuosity is eschewed in
favour of a warmer response, yet where
the music can and does scintillate and
excite.
Two Preludes round
off this superb disc. The E flat from
the Op. 23 set is magnificent balm after
the travails of Rach 2; the famous C
sharp minor is a study in chordal grading.
Masterly Rachmaninov,
to sit alongside your Richters and,
if you are that way inclined, your Ashkenazys.
Even your Volodos in No. 3 (Berliner
Philharmoniker/Levine). Recommended.
Colin Clarke
see also review
by Rob Barnett
Byron Janis (piano); 
SACD 470 639-2 [75’18] 