For much of her career
Clara Haskil remained a ‘pianist’s pianist’,
an artist that relatively few took much
notice of until the final decade of
her life. Then, suddenly, she was in
demand and famous. Although the fame
was fully deserved it was something
she refused to take seriously. Partnerships
with Enescu, Fricsay, Grumiaux and Hindemith
amongst many others yielded fruit in
terms of concerts and – in most cases
– recordings. As Jérôme
Spycket’s passionately heartfelt accompanying
programme note makes clear, Clara’s
recorded legacy is as precious as it
is infuriating, due to the fact that
several versions of some works exist
whilst whole tranches of her early repertoire
are lost to us. Whilst I find her as
brilliant in Beethoven as de Falla I
am no less grateful that uniquely Haskil
succeeded in taking dryness out of Hindemith’s
"The Four Temperaments". I
have to admit though that above all
Mozart was her special preserve.
Mozart’s piano concerto
19 in F major exists in five other versions
with Haskil as soloist, and concerto
24 exists in six others. So it’s reasonable
to ask if a release featuring yet another
version of both works is needed. Haskil
addicts will, I dare say, claim that
it is; and might already have rushed
to purchase the disc.
If one needs other
reasons to investigate the release there
are several that can be pointed to.
Firstly, these are radio recordings
of live performances. Comparing Haskil’s
studio recordings against live performances
I feel that she lost her inhibitions
in front of an audience and thus tended
to give freer performances as a result.
This recording was made using a microphone
set-up that caught the details of orchestral
sonority as well as the soloist, if
not always favourably. For the most
part, the ensemble does not overwhelm
the soloist as so often happens in amateurishly
recorded live performances. Allied to
this there’s little reason to curse
the audience’s presence. Yes, they applaud
wildly at the end of each concerto,
but are largely silent during the music
itself.
Secondly, the Lausanne
Chamber Orchestra is an ideal-sized
orchestra for Mozart; it is large enough
so that each section has some body to
its tone but small enough to retain
a transparent lightness when the textural
layers thin out in piano passages.
Third is the conductor,
Victor Desarzens. A conductor new to
me, his early career was as a violinist
in the Orchestra de la Suisse Romande,
before conducting the LCO from 1942
to 1972. He also taught conducting at
the Lausanne Conservatoire. A quick
browse on the web reveals a steadily
growing output of archive performances
that featured him. From these concertos
it is obvious that he was a Mozartian
with taste and flair. I would rather
that than a star name who injects precious
little other than a mighty maestro’s
ego into proceedings.
But in the end it comes
down, inevitably, to Clara Haskil; not
as a factor by herself but how her playing
and interpretation work with the other
points I mentioned above. Nowhere do
all the factors come together better
than in the Andante movement of the
C minor concerto. The sound is spacious,
with a near ideal balance between soloist
and orchestra. If the rest of the concerto
comes across with not quite the same
refinement, then the recording itself
is relatively to blame. In tutti passages
it can harden somewhat, and this is
a major affliction throughout the F
major concerto. As heard on this disc,
Haskil’s playing sounds uncharacteristically
lumpy and at odds with Mozart’s intentions.
Should you want Haskil in this concerto,
a better recommendation is her studio
recording from 1957 with the Bavarian
State Orchestra under Ferenc Fricsay
on DG 449 722-2. The couplings are the
concerto in B flat major, K. 595, and
the F major sonata, K 280.
The Claves disc, however,
will have its niche appeal for Haskil
enthusiasts.
Evan Dickerson
for details
Clara Haskil (piano) 
