Horowitz’s return to 
                Russia after an absence of just over 
                sixty years is commemorated in this 
                film which makes its first appearance 
                on DVD. I’m sure many will remember 
                it from television showings over the 
                years. Its award winning status is richly 
                confirmed in this new edition, unchanged 
                and unaugmented by any bonus features. 
              
 
              
The film captures the 
                clamour of the audience, their raptness, 
                the occasional weeping – most affecting 
                – in Träumerei, and Horowitz’s 
                visit to the Scriabin Museum where he 
                plays the composer’s piano and meet 
                Scriabin’s daughter. She introduces 
                herself to him in French. We also see 
                Horowitz, muffled against the climate, 
                wandering around his childhood haunts 
                and admitting that this would be the 
                last chance to meet his family before 
                he died. We hear from an edited interview 
                with him during the concert interval 
                – one recorded during his visit. 
              
 
              
The hall was full of 
                course but party functionaries who bagged 
                most of the tickets were augmented by 
                students, who refused to budge when 
                requested to leave. There were two hundred 
                of them in the balcony. They watched 
                a performance of characteristic and 
                unrepeatable magnetism. The Scarlatti, 
                bejewelled but evocative, and reflective 
                of his best Scarlatti playing is followed 
                by a Mozart Sonata of teasing brilliance, 
                personalised and full of fulsome rubati. 
                The Rachmaninov and Scriabin before 
                the interval are compounded of flair, 
                colouristic majesty and rare insight 
                and the Schubert, Liszt and Chopin after 
                it a roll-call of his artistry at its 
                most involved if still controversial. 
                The feathery articulation and lightness 
                of the Liszt Valse caprice is 
                an exquisite delight. 
              
 
              
Camera angles are simple 
                but effective, many from the pianist’s 
                left side, with a view of the spellbound 
                audience beyond, many clutching opera 
                glasses; especially effective are the 
                panning shots and the on stage cameraman 
                who films the pianist as he bows and 
                leaves the stage, handkerchief waving. 
              
 
              
I have to admit some 
                disappointment with the DVD however. 
                You need to search long and hard for 
                the name of the director, who was Brian 
                Large – it’s at the bottom of the box 
                – and there’s no encoding information. 
                Unless you knew Horowitz was talking 
                to Scriabin’s daughter you wouldn’t 
                otherwise know from the unhelpful, pretty 
                non-existent editing. Parts of the interviewing 
                and the Horowitz walkabout are in fact 
                messy and should have been tightened 
                up and properly captioned. The performances 
                captured throughout the film, however, 
                are gigantic in the extreme. 
              
 
               
              
Jonathan Woolf