Every note he ever recorded is now collected on fifteen discs, five albums, by RCA
Reviewed by Eric Salzman
"RACHMANINOFF, Da!" "Rachmaninoff, Nyet!" So went the titles of two assessments of the Russian composer last year on the occasion of his hundredth birthday (STEREO REVIEW, May 1973). I wrote both of them, and I meant both of them. But the problem-do I, don't I-is not just with me; Rachmaninoff is for many people a tantalizingly ambiguous figure in twentieth-century musical history.
RCA obviously feels that the public's attitude toward the great Sergei is thoroughly Da. At least they expect someone to buy his piano performances, for they have recently released five three-record sets, which together contain Rachmaninoff’s entire recorded legacy: all the concertos, the Third Symphony, the Paganini Rhapsody, a party performance of a Russian folk song with a singer (shades of Florence Foster Jenkins) who must be heard to be believed, the scratchy acoustic recordings of old-fash ioned arrangements and salon pieces, the wonderful performances of Schumann and Chopin. Now we all can judge for ourselves.
I never heard Rachmaninoff in the flesh, but I cut my eye-teeth on his performance of Schumann's Carnaval--I had no idea it was recorded as far back as 1929-and, what ever my opinion of Rachmaninoff's music, my estimation of his piano playing has never wavered. After fifteen discs and more than that many hours of total Rachmaninoff I am here to tell you that I stand firm. He was a great pianist.
It is not very hard to go through these recordings and find fault. At every step of the way, Rachmaninoff makes decisions, commits himself- sometimes even in obvious contradiction to the composer's own instructions. Admitted, it's not all to the "modern" taste: "Hmmm," says the modern, analytic listener. "what was that?" "Brilliant stroke," comes the reply. "Oh, my God, almost four beats in a three-quarter measure!" "Wow, what a tempo!" "No, dammit, pianissimo." "Can't hear the notes, can't hear the notes." "Whew!" In the end, speechlessness sets in. There are really only two reactions: get up and whip it off the turntable or sit back and glory in it.
Rachmaninoff's secret was magic. He naïvely retained that old Romantic belief in the magical qualities of music-in perfect contradistinction to his countryman Stravinsky, who, insisting on the importance of making beautiful things, took the aesthete-craftsman's position. Rachmaninoff's prestidigitation (the only proper term) was neither mere flummery nor pure mysticism, but a wonderful combination of the two-with a bit of moody Slavic psyche-baring thrown in. All this led him to a very particular approach, much of it inherited from Romantic tradition but a good deal of it personal. To him, the notes are never merely a collection of individual events, but actual living tissue.
He thinks in gestures, in phrases, in swatches of color; in coursing lines and a large dynamic. Sometimes, in a highly elaborated passage, you can hardly make out the individual notes at all; yet the music is never smeared, never blobbed over with sostenu to-pedal sentimentality. On the contrary, the playing is often surprisingly strong, aggressive, masculine. Corners and changes, al though rarely abrupt or brusque (Rachmaninoff was a master of the transition), are strikingly set forth and often contrasted with measured, reflective, and quite Classical playing.
When I wrote my for-and-against views on Rachmaninoff as my contribution to the great man's centennial, I was promptly ac cused of schizophrenia. Now, schizophrenia seems to be something of an occupational hazard among musicians, dating at least back to Robert Schumann's day (they called it dementia praecox back then: instead of going to an analyst, Schumann wrote Carna vat), and, although I can pretend to no clini cal knowledge of Rachmaninoff's psychological problems (if he had any), he was, I suspect, also something of a victim of it.
Perhaps that is why he understood Carnaval so well. There is a dualism, a sense of conflict in nearly everything he does. One moment he is a real wizard, weaving colors and spells, enchanting you; the next moment he snaps you out of it, begs your attention, craves your involvement. But he never bores.
RACHMANINOFF was a Victor artist from the beginning to the end of his career, and RCA proudly asserts that their five-volume tribute is his complete surviving recorded legacy, up to and including fourteen 78-rpm sides that have never before been released.
Some of the new material is minor, but there are a Chopin A-flat Ballade, a C-sharp Mi nor Scherzo, and other notable additions.
Volume 1 consists of the acoustic recordings (1919 to 1924), including an early in complete Second Concerto recorded with the Philadelphia Orchestra and Stokowski, a bunch of Rachmaninoff s shorter works ( there are two performances of the C-sharp Minor Prelude), a good bit of Chopin (mostly waltzes), a bit of Debussy (Children's Corner, of course), some popular Liszt and Tchaikovsky, and a whole host of salon pieces and arrangements. The musical results-in repertoire, in playing style, and, naturally, in recorded sound-are remote from us, but they hold the fascination of things antique, providing a glimpse into an other age that was even then about to disappear into history.
Volumes 2 and 3 cover the solo record of these contains Rachmaninoff's own mu sic plus a certain number of other Russian works and a Classical side: Bach, Mozart, Handel, and Beethoven. Volume 3 contains most of the Central European Romantic music, including the still wonderful Carnaval, a superb Chopin B-flat Minor Sonata, and a fine side of shorter Chopin works.
Volume 4 contains the three notable collaborations with Fritz Kreisler--an excellent classicizing of a Beethoven violin sonata, a marvelous version of the Grieg sonata, and a not-so-terrific Schubert sonata as well as his own recordings of three of his orchestral works: The Isle of the Dead, an orchestration of his Vocalise, and, some what surprisingly, the Third Symphony (apparently he never recorded his far better known Second). Volume 5- for most people, probably, the piece de resistance comprises the four concertos and the Paganini Rhapsody with the composer back at the keyboard.
I have rather studiously avoided till now the question of Rachmaninoff's own music, but, I suppose, the issue must be faced. "The Complete Rachmaninoff" is obviously as much a tribute to the creative as to the interpretive artist; indeed, except for his countryman and rival Stravinsky, no composer has left us such a large body of self-interpreted work.
Rachmaninoff the pianist is much easier to deal with than Rachmaninoff the composer for a very simple reason. In the former case, we can point to his outstanding characteristics-they are many and obvious; his performances are strong and full of flavor and add a few comments: "Isn't that remarkable?" "Great old Romantic tradition." "Can't he play anything straight?" "Don't make 'em like that any more!" "Can't he keep 4/4 time?" "There were giants in those days!" "Fine for Romantic music; can't trust him with the Classics." And so forth. But with the compositions, we usually attempt wider, more sweeping judgments. What is the value of his music sub specie aeternitatis? Does popularity necessarily indicate value? Is the historical rush to judgment (Rachmaninoff was behind the times; therefore, his music must be of less value than that of the avant-garde!) the final appeal? Let us have a little perspective, please.
Every tradition in Western culture has a certain cycle: an innovative period, developed in a limited context for a local public, connoisseurs, or the like; a classical period, when the best and the popular seem to coincide; a period of development and diffusion; and, finally, a retardaire or neo-classical period coinciding with a new period of innovation. During this last period, the large, popular audiences developed earlier tend to break down into different factions supporting this or that version of the old style. The history of pop music in the last ten years fol lows this model just as much as the history of classical music in the last two centuries does. Rachmaninoff's music, like that of his contemporaries- Sibelius, Richard Strauss, Carl Nielsen, Busoni, the post-Wagnerians, even Stravinsky-belongs to that final phase. It therefore has its public-even a large one-but its long-range significance and cultural appeal will always be somewhat limited; it will never equal that of his distinguished predecessors.
It is worth pointing out once again that the bulk of Rachmaninoff's music was produced within hailing distance of the nineteenth century; the few late works, notably the Paganini Rhapsody, actually have some thing of a neo-Classic character in keeping with the temper of a later day. So Sergei Vasilovitch's music was indeed a product of its times: it says what it has to say-and says it effectively to quite a few of us, even now. More than that one cannot ask of any creative artist.
A footnote for Rachmaninoff Concerto haters: the Third Symphony is a lively, inventive work, full of character and distinction. And there is gold-well, silver, any way-among the early, short piano pieces.
These recordings have been well produced by RCA's Jack Pfeiffer with the assistance of Gregor Benko of the International Piano Library. Most of the 78 side flips are all but unnoticeable. Even some of the recordings from the Twenties are surprisingly serviceable, and by the time you get to the Forties you accept the sound as positively modern. Record noise, the biggest problem in this sort of enterprise, is quite variable here, but fortunately some of the major recordings are really astonishingly quiet.
Quality and lateness of date do not always go together, however; for instance, the First Concerto sounds lovely and the Third is quite badly distorted, yet they were both recorded at the same time. Anyway, happy birthday, Sergei.
SERGEI RACHMANINOFF: The Complete Rachmaninoff, Vol. 1-The Acoustic Recordings (1919-1924). Rachmaninoff: Piano Concerto No. I, in C Minor, Op. 18.
Preludes: in G Minor, Op. 23, No. 5; in G-sharp Minor, Op. 32, No. 12; in C-sharp Minor. Op. 3, No. 2; in G Major, Op. 32, No. 5. Chopin: Waltzes: in E-flat Major, Op. 18; in F Major, Op. 34, No. 3; in D-flat Major, Op. 64, No. I; in B Minor, Op. 69, No. 2; in G-flat Major, Op. 70, No. 1. D. Scarlatti (arr. Tausig): Pastorale in E Minor.
Liszt: Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2, in C. sharp Minor (with Rachmaninoff cadenza).
Other selections. Sergei Rachmaninoff (piano); Philadelphia Orchestra. Leopold Stokowski cond. (in Concerto). RCA ARM3-0260 three discs $17.98.
SERGEI RACHMANINOFF: The Complete Rachmaninoff, Vol. 2. Rachmaninoff: Preludes: in C-sharp Minor, Op. 3, No. 2; in G-flat Major, Op. 23, No. 10; in F Minor, Op. 32, No. 6; in F Major, Op. 32, No 7.
Etudes-Tableaux: in C Major, Op. 33. No. 2; in E-flat Major, Op. 33, No. 7; in A Mi nor, Op. 39, No. 6. Oriental Sketch; Daisies; Lilacs. Scriabin: Prelude in F-sharp Minor, Op. II, No. 8. Borodin: Scherzo in A-flat Major. Tchaikovsky: Troika. Bach, J. S.: Sarabande. Handel: Air and Variations ("The Harmonious Blacksmith"). Mozart: Rondo calla Turco. Beethoven: Thirty-two Variations in C Minor. Other selections.
Sergei Rachmaninoff (piano). RCA A R M3-0261 three discs $17.98.
SERGEI RACHMANINOFF: The Complete Rachmaninoff, Vol. 3. Chopin: Sonata in B-flat Minor, Op. 35; Nocturne in E-flat Major, Op. 9, No. 2. Waltzes: in C-sharp Mi nor, Op. 64, No. 2; in A-flat Major. Op. 64, No. 3; in E Minor, Op. Posth. Ballade in A-flat Major, Op. 47; Mazurka in A Minor, Op. 68, No. 2. Schumann: Camara', Op. 9.
Liszt: Polonaise No. 2. in E Major; Gnomenreigen; Arrangements of Chopin and Schubert songs. Schubert: Impromptu in A-flat Major. Op. 90, No. 4. Mendelssohn: Two Etudes; Spinning Song. Other selections, by Paderewski, J. Strauss. and others.
Sergei Rachmaninoff (piano). RCA A RM3-0294 three discs $17.98.
SERGEI RACHMANINOFF: The Complete Rachmaninoff, Vol. 4. Beethoven: Sonata in G Major for Violin and Piano, Op. 30, No. 3. Grieg: Sonata in C Minor for Violin and Piano, Op. 45. Schubert: Sonata in A Major for Violin and Piano, Op. /62 (D. 574).
Rachmaninoff: The Isle of the Dead, Op. 29; Vocalise: Symphony No. 3, in A Minor, Op. 44. Sergei Rachmaninoff (piano); Fritz Kreisler (violin, in Beethoven, Grieg. and Schubert sonatas); Philadelphia Orchestra, Sergei Rachmaninoff cond. RCA A RM3-0295 three discs $17.98.
SERGEI RACHMANINOFF: The Complete Rachmaninoff, Vol. 5. Rachmaninoff: Piano Concertos: No. I, in F-sharp Minor, Op. 1; No. 2, in C Minor, Op. 18; No. 3, in D Mi nor, Op. 30; No. 4, in G Minor, Op. 40. Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, Op. 43.
Sergei Rachmaninoff (piano); Philadelphia Orchestra, Eugene Ormandy (in Concerto No. 1) and Leopold Stokowski cond. RCA A RM3-0296 three discs $17.98.
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