----Arrau and Horowitz, then ...
Historic reissues and recent recordings combine to replenish the legends of two of the century's great pianists.
by Harris Goldsmith
Claudio Arrau celebrated his seventy fifth birthday two seasons ago; Vladimir Horowitz marked his last year. Both of these unique artists continue to perform unimpaired. Some sort of retrospective is surely appropriate, and indeed, the juxtaposition of new recordings with valued reissues of earlier performances can only prove beneficial in giving a more balanced and comprehensive impression of what makes each--though admittedly controversial--indisputably great.
RCA has two Horowitz projects one devoted to reissues of mono and early stereo recordings made before the pianist's twelve-year defection to Columbia, the other culled from concerts given since his return to the fold. The newest item, "The Horowitz Concerts 1978-79," finds the artist in rare form. All the familiar Horowitz characteristics are here in abundance, and the playing has debonair ease and suavity and all the color and spontaneity that were sadly missing from his Liszt sonata and Rachmaninoff Third Concerto released last year.
This is not to say that everyone will approve of all the harmonic changes and editorial emendations (some of them Busoni's, others of Horowitz' own devising) in Liszt's Mephisto. And since there is less "tradition" for tampering with phrases and changing notes in Schumann than in Liszt (actually Schumannesque alterations are just as frequent though less advertised), some purists will undoubtedly express out rage at Horowitz' redistribution of lines, near contortion of phrases, and spurts of febrile energy in the Humoreske. And yet, the performances have such poetry and communicative style, such magnificent color, and-for all the manipulative rubato and reverse accents-such continuity that those unable to meet Horowitz on his own terms will be missing a great deal. I was utterly disarmed by his playing here.
Although the Schumann and the Mephisto are the disc's most substantial offerings, there is as much wizardry in the thrice familiar Consolation, here paced with delectable arching line. As for the two Rachmaninoff morceaux, even that great composer/pianist didn't surpass Horowitz' limpid repose in the barcarolle and diabolically nimble passagework in the Humoresque.
The sound quality, too, has much more color and depth than in last year's Liszt and Rachmaninoff--I suspect that the microphones were judiciously moved farther back. Only occasionally do the fortissimos verge on tininess. (Applause has been removed except for the ovation following the final piece on the agenda: a wise solution.) In every way, then, this collection which, incidentally, represents Horowitz' first recordings of all five works-will take its place with his finest performances on records. The reissue is more problematic.
VLADIMIR HOROWITZ: The Horowitz Concerts 1978-79.
Vladimir Horowitz, piano. [John Pfeiffer, prod.] RCA RED SEAL ARL 1-3433, $8.98. Tape: ARK 1-3433, $8.98 (cassette).
SCHUMANN: Humoreske, Op. 20.
RACHMANINOFF: Barcarolle, Op. 10, No. 3; Humoresque, Op. 10, No. 5. LISZT: Consolation No. 3; Mephisto Waltz No. 1.
HAYDN: Sonata for Piano, No. 52, in E flat*. MUSSORGSKY: Pictures at an Exhibition.
R Vladimir Horowitz, piano. RCA RED SEAL ARM 1-3263, $8.98 (mono). Tape:
ARK 1-3263, $8.98 (cassette) [recorded in 1947 and 1951*].
COMPARISON--Mussorgsky: Richter Odys. Y 32223 CLAUDIO ARRAU: The Historic Recordings.
RH Claudio Arrau, piano. DESMAR GHP 4001/2, $17.96 (mono, two discs) [from various originals, 1927-57].
BALAKIREV: Islamey. BUSONI: Elegie No. 5 (Die Vachtlichen).
STRAVINSKY: Petrushka: Danse russe.
LISZT: Rhapsodie espagnole. Transcendental Etudes After Paganini: No. 1, in G minor; No. 2, in E flat; No. 5, in E (La Chasse); No. 6, in A minor. Concert Etude No. 2, in F minor (La Leggierezza). Annees de pelerinage, First Year: Au bord d'une source; Third Year: Les Jeux d'eaux a la Villa d'Este. CHOPIN: Waltz in F, Op. 34, No. 3. Etudes: in C sharp minor, Op. 10, No. 4; in A flat, Op. 25, No. 1; in F minor, Op. 25, No. 2. Prelude in F, Op. 28, No. 23. Tarantella in A flat, Op. 43.
CHOPIN-LISZT:
Chant polonais, Op. 74, No. 12: My Joys.
DEBUSSY: Preludes, Book II: La Puerta del vino, No. 3.
SCHUBERT: Fantasy in C, D. 760 (Wanderer).
SCHUBERT-LISZT: Hark, Hark, the Lark.
ALBENIZ: Iberia, Books I-II.
BR Claudio Arrau, piano.
ODYSSEY Y 35229, $4.98 (mono) [from COLUMBIA ML 4194, c. 1949].
CHOPIN: Nocturnes (21).
Claudio Arrau, piano. PHILIPS 6747 485, $19.96 (two discs, manual sequence).
Tape: 7699 088, $19.96 (two cassettes).
Ironically, the Carnegie Hall recital from which this 1951 version of the Haydn sonata was taken also contained a performance of Pictures at an Exhibition that was later made into a commercial record (RCA LM 2357). The present Pictures is a studio recording, made four years earlier. RCA has done an admirable job of transferring the original 78s, and the 1947 sound as re produced here almost rivals the later taping for solidity and impact, though not for sheer voltage. (A similar situation held true for Sviatoslav Richter's studio and concert performances of Mussorgsky's original version.) Which brings me to the heart of the matter: I become infuriated anew by the late Olin Downes's deliberate misrepresentation of what Horowitz has done to Mussorgsky's competently--in fact, ingeniously--devised piano writing. With all those changed harmonies, garishly rear ranged figurations, and the like, it is almost criminal to blithely contend that this arrangement "is a return to the original text. . . and now of the piano pieces as they are published in the Lamm edition ... following faithfully the original manuscripts" and then, with an evasive admission that "Mr. Horowitz has [after all] done a little 'piano orchestration,' " to categorize such intervention as an "effort ... solely to realize the intention of the composer and to refrain from gratuitous ornamentation or officious 'correction' of any detail of his text as it stands." If Horowitz wants to add graffiti to Pictures, so be it. But Richter's astounding Sofia concert performance (currently avail able on Odyssey, with George Szell's ac count of the Ravel orchestration) is at least as exciting and much more exalted; even Horowitz' superior concert reading falls short of it. Somehow, what fits the character of Liszt's Mephisto seems more anachronistic in Mussorgsky.
The great Haydn sonata, played with wonderfully bracing élan and piston-stroke finger-work, is reason enough to acquire this disc. The performance is fully the equal of the early Horowitz studio recording, and the still admirable reproduction lets one hear much more of the color and articulation than could be discerned from the 1934-35 account (Seraphim 60063).
Horowitz has somehow managed to retain his erstwhile reputation as a key board fire-eater, while broadening his image by delving into new repertoire; Arrau, on the other hand, has narrowed his once diversified repertoire but broadened his sonority and interpretive style. Today we think of Arrau as the scholar personified, a sovereign master who favors breadth of vision, leisurely tempos, and a generous helping of rhetorical expansiveness--occasionally carrying elasticity to the point of willful mannerism. The new Philips recording fits this description of him in his latter-most phase, but the reissues shed more valuable light on this still sadly mis understood artist.
Arrau, admittedly an in-depth interpreter of Beethoven, Brahms, Schumann, and the other German classic/Romantic figures, once had the most catholic of repertoires; the Chilean-born, German-trained virtuoso has probably played and recorded a wider range of music than any other pianist, with the possible exception of Richter.
How many interpreters can do such justice to late Beethoven, Albeniz' Iberia, and Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier? And Arrau's present broad-toned, meditative manner makes one forget his earlier tendency toward fast tempos, utmost delicacy, and a tonal flexibility that favored lean transparency almost to the point of brittleness.
Truly imposing artists have it in them to surprise us, and Arrau has kept that valuable characteristic. His unexpected impetuosity in the recent recording of Chopin's F minor Fantasy, Op. 49 (Philips 9500 393, September 1978), is also in evidence in his 1932 account of Chopin's tarantella, re corded by Parlophone and included in the Desmar anthology. But then, the Desmar collection (beautifully dubbed and impeccably pressed by Teldec in Germany) is full of revelations.
Balakirev's Islamey is magnificently controlled rhythmically, the avalanche of notes and rapid chords executed with bristling precision. In some ways, Arrau's reading is even more impressive than Simon Barere's equally virtuosic, somewhat wilder, but less precise performance (recently revived on Varese Sarabande VC 81045, February 1979). The Liszt performances are, without exception, dazzling-al though it must be noted that the Spanish Rhapsody, from a 1936 Telefunken original, is judiciously pruned due to the exigencies of 78 recording.
I was particularly intrigued with the Chopin. Arrau generally has not impressed me as being the most natural exponent of this music, but most of these 1930s readings project a longer line that spins through his pauses and rhetorical rubatos. This, I suspect, is accomplished by way of a more spontaneous address: Arrau appears to be having fun, not taking himself (or the music) quite so seriously as he does today. The Debussy prelude is played with a torrid, insistent rhythm and magnificently solid sonority. In the Schubert fantasy, however, the rhythm is too solid, although the sound of that 1957 EMI recording--and the gorgeous instrument used-could still be considered demonstration class.
The Odyssey reissue of the first two books of Iberia makes one regret that Arrau never recorded the other half of Albeniz' tour de force. These performances, with every note in place, nevertheless convey wonderful elan, a natural feel for rhythm and texture, and a peculiarly idiomatic sonority.
In every respect, this is breathtaking pianism, different from, but certainly the equal of, Alicia de Larrocha's near definitive complete recordings (Turnabout 34750/1 or Musical Heritage Society MHS 1307/8 and London CSA 2235). The Odyssey disc, in a good pressing, presents sound that has dated honorably: The piano still has a modicum of atmosphere and color but becomes a bit constricted in loud passages.
Arrau's traversal of Chopin's nocturnes happily includes the two pieces not ordinarily part of the canonized nineteen.
The playing is cognizant of every textual nicety (which the pianist's 1957 Wanderer Fantasy isn't, incidentally-he surprisingly keeps the D sharp there throughout the final measure of the second section instead of changing it to D natural). Some sparkle and flow are inevitably missing from these grandly solid renditions, but Arrau man ages to convey much of the febrile atmosphere that pervades this music, and Philips' piano reproduction is exceptionally rich.
Rubinstein's RCA version of a decade ago had a similarly attractive, bronzen tone but was far more benign and mild-mannered. My favorite accounts remain those of Minas Vasary (DG 136 486/7) and Ivan Moravec (Connoisseur Society S 1065, 1165).
Personal preference aside, all of these releases form a major part of the legacy of two of this century's bona fide key board stylists.
(High Fidelity, Jan. 1980)
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