Should you not be aware 
                of the fact Wladyslaw Szpilman, who 
                died in 2000, was the eponymous Pianist 
                of Roman Polanski’s celebrated film 
                and the author of the book from which 
                it derived. The soundtrack of the film 
                has proved durable and Szpilman’s own 
                works for piano and orchestra (he was 
                an able composer as well) have been 
                recorded by Sony. So this three-disc 
                set should well have something of a 
                constituency, especially as it fuses 
                some intriguing repertoire, performances 
                and chamber groups. 
              
 
              
Let’s peruse the repertoire 
                first; Chopin, naturally, but also the 
                broadcast premiere of Bacewicz’s Second 
                Piano Sonata from 1953; Prokofiev’s 
                Seventh Sonata in a good performance 
                but also a Jazzmelody (so-called) 
                of Gershwin and Rodgers. The second 
                disc reunites Szpilman with an old and 
                dear colleague of his from before the 
                War, that splendid violinist Bronislaw 
                Gimpel - you might have his Vox box 
                on your shelf with its delectable Bruch, 
                Dvorak and Goldmark concerto recordings. 
                They run through two standard sonatas 
                – Grieg’s Op.45 and Beethoven’s Spring 
                - and join in some sparkling morceaux. 
                The third disc is given over to the 
                chamber group of which they were members, 
                the Warsaw Piano Quintet, which toured 
                widely and is here represented by two 
                works; the Schumann and, in a rare outing, 
                the Zarebski Quintet in G. 
              
 
              
The performances with 
                Gimpel – both were born in 1911 though 
                the violinist died in 1979 – are the 
                works of congenial and long-standing 
                friends. They exude Old World charm 
                – and verities; there’s nothing tensile 
                or over-rushed in the Spring. 
                It’s a leisurely reading, with Szpilman 
                adept at bass etching and with plenty 
                of limpid generosity in the slow movement 
                - and slightly shallow piano tone. Accompanying 
                violin figures are always properly balanced 
                – Gimpel was never one of those "hear 
                me at all costs" fiddle players 
                – and its marshalling of subsidiary 
                figures in the finale is excellent. 
                A mellow reading, this, elegant and 
                colouristic and not propulsive or theatrical. 
                The same approach is followed in the 
                Grieg from five years later in 1965 
                where the two rely on colour and tonal 
                inflexion more than pure projection. 
                One can note Szpilman’s precisely graded 
                work in the opening movement and the 
                way both men stabilise the potentially 
                discursive writing; the pawky piano 
                writing is wittily explored, its stalking 
                bass line not a feature that others 
                routinely investigate. The folk elements 
                are successfully characterised, as are 
                the more obviously lyric moments. I 
                think admirers will welcome the duo’s 
                leisurely and affectionate approach 
                to these sonatas 
              
 
              
The smaller violin 
                pieces include an ebullient Wieniawski, 
                and a virtuosic and colour-packed Bloch 
                Nigun. Of more interest is the 
                Rathaus Pastorale and dance, 
                written in 1937, and a sparky, Prokofiev-influenced 
                opus with some warm moments of impressionism 
                threaded through its lyricism. 
              
 
              
Their Piano Quintet 
                taped this brace of quintets in Warsaw 
                in 1963 and 1965. The Schumann receives 
                a warm and attractive reading, albeit 
                one rather tonally dominated by Gimpel. 
                But the unanimity of the string work 
                is notable, and predictably so as they 
                clearly made for a tonally homogenous 
                group. The Zarebski is a real rarity. 
                It has a rather Brahmsian ethos and 
                is a boldly confident work. The highlight 
                is the beautiful Adagio, which spins 
                an effusive intertwining lyricism to 
                great effect. If only it were more concise. 
                At twelve minutes in length one could 
                do with moving on. Still the Scherzo 
                and Finale are bold and vigorous, full 
                of dance rhythms and dynamism. 
              
 
              
The solo works go back 
                as far as 1946, the earliest recordings 
                in the set. His Chopin Polonaise-Fantasie 
                is unaffected and patently sincere and 
                the Ballade in F equally attractive. 
                The Bacewicz is a significant piece, 
                dedicated to Szpilman and here in its 
                first broadcast performance. It has 
                plenty of her Prokofiev-derived drive 
                but is none the worse for that and its 
                compact four movement structure (with 
                Baroque indications) demands attention. 
                There’s more Chopin in the shape of 
                the Nocturne in C minor Op. posth. which, 
                despite the so-so broadcast quality, 
                fails to dampen Szpilman’s wonderfully 
                singing tone. His own Mazurka is a gentle 
                homage to Chopin and the Old School 
                Friedman and Grunfeld are finely done. 
                He wasn’t above a jazzy tune or two 
                – and he’d obviously been listening 
                to Teddy Wilson whose stylistic fingerprints 
                loom large in the 1949 Jazzmelody. 
              
 
              
Szpilman was clearly 
                a musician of significant gifts; we 
                know he gave performances of the big 
                concertos but here we find that he was 
                adaptable and sensitive and a clearly 
                consummate sonata colleague and chamber 
                ally. As a solo player he allied technical 
                command with a warmly singing and rounded 
                tone. Pretty much everything here is 
                well worth hearing – irrespective of 
                whether you’ve seen the film or not. 
                The booklet is a generous one, with 
                plenty of well-reproduced pictures, 
                promotional material and with a most 
                involving text written by Szpilman’s 
                son Andrzej. The only blot is that I 
                find I can’t cope with dual texts, English 
                on the left hand page and German on 
                the right. My eye runs on to the next 
                page to meet a flood of umlauts and 
                capitals. But otherwise this three disc 
                set stands the test and is a worthy 
                memorial to Szpilman. 
              
 
              
              
Jonathan Woolf