The Fantasiestücke
played by Friedrich Gulda opens with
an extremely slow and reflective performance
of Des Abends. The accompanying
figures are a little obtrusive and occupy
the same sound-space as the melody,
instead of being recessed. Others including
Rubinstein project a better singing
line at a faster tempo while Cortot
conjures a heady atmosphere from the
exotic evening air.
Aufschwung enters
with an explosion, the dynamic difference
so huge as to point perhaps towards
doctoring of the recording. This is
powerful but harsh playing. On the other
hand, listen to Argerich and hear how
much more variety of tone can be found.
In Warum Gulda captures the questioning
character of the piece but fails to
grasp the structure the way Richter
or Rubinstein do. A lack of Schumannesque
impulsiveness makes it sound more like
Chopin. Grillen is square and
rigid, and Schumann’s marking ‘mit Humor’
goes undetected.
In der Nacht
is presented too brightly with too much
etched detail. Where is the shading,
the mystery, the darkness? One hears
every note, but surely that is not the
idea here. This is partly the fault
of the close recording. In Traumes
Wirren Gulda’s quirky rhythmic effects
remind one of Gershwin, while Ende
vom Lied begins in a heavy-handed
and monotonous way. This should be exalted
music. Instead there is little phrasing
or flow to the performance. In the end,
despite some robust and exciting playing
- and a serenely calm Des Abends
- I found myself wanting more ‘Fantasy’.
Moving on to Ingrid
Haebler in Papillons brings
no greater bounty. The sound is good
for the year, certainly more comfortable
to listen to than in the much later
Gulda. But this is a rushed and forceful
Papillons, lacking colour and
freedom. Occasionally one hears real
beauty of sound and flexibility of phrasing
- as in the second half of No.7 - which
shows what Haebler was capable of. There’s
also some wonderfully fleet-fingered
playing (as in No.9), but much of the
time this reading disappoints.
Why, for example, in
the second themes of Nos. 6 and 10 (the
same theme), does she skip a beat just
before the repeat? Other peculiarities
include the subito prestissimo
rather than the marked accelerando
in No.4, and the rushed unlyrical playing
of No.5.
Haebler manages to
make No.11 sound like a Liszt Hungarian
Rhapsody, while the Finale has
none of the grandeur that should be
so obvious in the music. The wit and
ingenuity of the final page are lost
– Schumann’s successive shortening of
the fragmented melody by one note each
time is far better characterised by
Richter. In fact Richter (on EMI) says
much more with much less. In No.4 he
is similarly presto but with
an elasticity and sweetness missing
from the icy Haebler. In her fortes,
all is grey and unvaried. Richter (or
Horszowski on BBC Legends) play with
so many different shades.
In her defence, her
performance improves around halfway
and what impresses is the sure-fingeredness
and clarity of articulation, as well
as the way she captures Schumann’s schizophrenic
changes of mood. But for this reviewer
the playing is too often mechanical,
unromantic and uncolourful.
In Etudes Symphoniques,
one of the greatest keyboard masterpieces,
Nikita Magaloff gives us a wonderfully
limpid and subtle performance, occasionally
restrained but extraordinarily beautiful.
Here is the pliant warm keyboard sonority
missing from the other performances
on the disc. The sound is not as clear
as it might be but is respectable enough
for its age.
The Theme flows
wonderfully, while the 1st
and 4th Etude sound remarkably
unforced and natural. Listen to the
wonderfully tender echoes at 1’03"
in the 2nd Etude, the way
the music is given space to breathe.
A slight disappointment comes at the
start of the 5th Etude when
Magaloff doesn’t quite maintain the
previous Etude’s tempo. The 6th
Etude should be more agitato,
but what gems the performances of the
two supplementary Variations turn out
to be. A warning here that only Variations
IV and V are included. Magaloff doesn’t
quite find enough tonal variety or sense
of structure in the 8th Etude,
and the 10th Etude could
catch fire more. One can’t help feeling
that with an extra dose of adrenaline,
perhaps in a ‘live’ setting, any such
reservations would be silenced. The
11th Etude is coloured and
layered exquisitely, with a truly murmuring
accompaniment, and a cantabile
but not over-projected melody – so beautiful,
tender and sad. In the Finale,
listen to the way Magaloff is subtly
flexible with the tempo, while maintaining
all the clarity of the dotted rhythms.
That said, a degree of passion is missing
in the main subject. Be aware: many
of the repeats are not observed. Despite
these various reservations there is
something truly special about this performance.
For the ultimate combination
of Eusebius and Florestan, and an architectural
grasp of structure, I would urge you
to turn to Richter. He also includes
all five supplementary Variations.
The booklet notes by
Raymond Tuttle are very good concerning
the programme, but offer nothing about
the artists or the provenance of these
(presumably studio) performances. This
is a real disappointment given the rarity
of these recordings.
Alex Demetriou
Friedrich Gulda (piano) *; Ingrid Haebler (piano)
**; Nikita Magaloff (piano) *** 
