Reissues like this,
I often think, promote much the same
conflicting emotions as do those reunions
with long-lost members of the family,
or with one-time college friends of
thirty-odd years ago. It’s wonderful
to remake their acquaintance, but unsettling
to be reminded of how much our outlook
and expectations have changed, and how
much experience has aged us! This CD
is indeed good to hear. It serves to
emphasise not only the uniqueness of
Rubinstein’s artistry, but also the
extraordinary achievements of his successors
and advances in recording technique
this last half-century.
For a generation at
least, Rubinstein’s Chopin was regarded
as the gold standard - the yardstick
by which all other performers and performances
were judged. His playing was often described
as ‘magical’ - a bon mot which
perfectly encapsulates the unique blend
of romantic fervour, charm, spontaneity
and dexterity which distinguish his
music-making. He speaks with an unchallengeable
authority which demands our respect
and attention - as if a witness to a
great historical event, or a grandfather
recollecting his childhood!
Compared with more
recent issues, these performances might
be thought underplayed, even under-characterised.
But of course understating - or, rather,
avoiding overstatement - is a hallmark
of maturity, of greatness and no bad
thing in a ‘reference’ CD recording.
You might think he makes light of key
moments. The quadruple octaves and chromatic
scales in the closing bars of the G
minor Ballade, for example, where self-revealing
pyrotechnics - the norm with younger
players - are conspicuous by their absence!
You might even think today’s players
offer more mercurial clarity of fingerwork,
or more unbridled virtuosity. The B
minor Scherzo, with its relentlessly
dashing semiquavers, for example, which
- despite being 100% secure and accurate
in Rubinstein’s hands - is no mere ‘showpiece’
or vehicle for technical display.
I confess that there
are one or two occasions where Rubinstein
delivers isolated notes within a melodic
line with what seems to be an unintentional
prominence. On first hearing this had
me wondering whether he was planning
to break up the phrase in some unexpected
or individual way. But no, his touch
is - dare I say it? - occasionally
uneven. Even so, how lovely it is to
hear such selfless playing! The singing
lyricism of the F major Ballade’s opening
page - with genuinely dotted rhythms
- is simply delightful. His subtly inconspicuous
rubato (totally free of excesses)
is a pleasure to hear after the mannered
distortions which so often disfigure
latter-day readings.
No one approaches a
disc such as this with the intention
of fitting it into some kind of batting
order among available recordings. But
be aware that - as so often with core
repertory such as this - there are very
tempting alternatives. Indeed, there
are several digital recordings which
offer, as well as state-of-the-art sound,
performances which are, in my estimation,
so accomplished as to banish any meaningful
criticism. Of these, Stephen Hough’s
recent Hyperion disc (CDA67456) couples
the Ballades and Scherzos, as here.
Hough alternates Ballades and Scherzos,
both in numerical sequence, whereas
with RCA all four Ballades are placed
before the group of Scherzos. Hough’s
pianism is astonishing but it is his
vehicle for projecting Chopin, not Hough.
For a recording of the Ballades with
alternative and less substantial couplings,
I would suggest Perahia (Sony SK64399)
and Zimerman (DG 4590532) as perhaps
most deserving of consideration. Ax’s
RCA Navigator disc of the Ballades -
impressively masculine playing, and
brightly recorded, but at a silly price!
- seems no longer to be available. However
you can still get his steely Scherzos
on Sony SMK44544.
Rubinstein’s gold may
not shine quite like it used to, but
to have these two classic LPs on one
CD, with sound quality nicely tidied-up,
is a jewel nonetheless, and not to be
missed!
Peter J Lawson
see also
review by Colin Clarke