Piano Concerto in A minor, Op. 16

[Todd A]

Yep, I do immensely enjoy the Grieg Piano Concerto. Always have. Start to finish, it delights, but the slow movement and the slow section of the finale just gets me every single time I listen, at least in better performances. Over the years, I’ve read some disparaging remarks about the work, and a few people seem to not hold it in the highest regard. Maybe this has to do with its comparative popularity – how can something that is popular be good? – but maybe not. That doesn’t matter, either way. When I look at available recordings, I see that many titans of the piano have recorded it, some multiple times. It’s this fact that contributes to me liking it so. When I can listen to Michelangeli and then Freire and then Andsnes, well, what’s not to love? I decided it was time to systematically work my way through this work to find the greatest recording. Well, sort of. Since I first heard it, Leif Ove Andsnes’ second recording with Mariss Jansons has stood as my favorite. So really, this exercise in musical excess will determine if that recording holds up against the onslaught.

Note that only the final version of the concerto will be surveyed, so Love Derwinger’s recording of the original version will not be included. Also not included is Robert Riefling’s recording because I have not made it a point to buy an LP copy and also because whichever entity owns the Valois catalog is committing a crime against humanity by not issuing all of his LP era recordings.

What better way to start out than with not one, not two, not three, but four recordings by Arthur Rubinstein?

First, the 1942 recording with Eugene Ormandy and the Phillies. Tight timps launch the work, Rubinstein forcefully announces his presence, the band responds, then Rubinstein comes back, all big chords, then jaunty playing. Then finally the hypnotically beautiful tunes arrive. Both band and soloist go back and forth, and the middle-aged soloist zips through many of the passages. Ormandy makes sure to let the strings luxuriate, and one hears some old world portamento and style. The cadenza has a free-wheeling sound to it, which it should since it is essentially live. The second movement sounds very beautiful, but also pretty quick, with Rubinstein, in particular, not going slow anywhere. The finale starts extra zippy before backing off to those gorgeous melodies, and here Rubinstein heaps on the beautiful playing. The final two-thirds or so is all zippy, high-energy, high drama playing.

 

[tuga]

I love this concert too. I've only listened to it live once, played by Sa Chen. A recording was made that same week by Pentatone (but soundscape-wise does not sound close to what I listened from the audience).
My go to recordings are Arrau/RCO and Perahia/BRSO.

Looking forward to your musings. May I suggest this one?

 

[alanbeeb]

I love it too... I have a couple of live Sviatoslav Richter recordings which would be superb if not for iffy sound quality.

Lowly Classics-for-Pleasure Pascal Devoyon & Jerzy Maksymiuk with LPO is therefore my go-to disc for this.

 

[Todd A]

Looking forward to your musings. May I suggest this one?

In the queue.

Lowly Classics-for-Pleasure Pascal Devoyon & Jerzy Maksymiuk with LPO is therefore my go-to disc for this.

This one too.

 

[Todd A]

Next up, Dorati and the RCA Victor Symphony Orchestra from 1949. One immediately notices the superior sound, with crisper timps, more punch, more clarity in Rubinstein’s playing, and while noticeably longer, the first movement flows better, with less tension in the slower playing and more in the faster playing. The sound is so much more vivid, and Rubinstein storms the heavens so much more effectively, that I am guessing this is an early tape recording, with the editing options that allowed for. Of course, it was recorded in one day, so I don’t know for sure. What I do know is that the superior sound and benefit of more relaxed when appropriate playing benefits the slow movement even more than in the first recording. Rubinstein keeps the tempi brisk overall, but layers on lovely legato in some passages. The final burst forth with energy at the start, with Dorati making Ormandy seem undisciplined. The slow, beautiful section benefits from closely recorded winds and gentler playing from the soloist, but overall, the movement is about bravura playing. A step up from the recording with Ormandy.

 

[Nic Robinson]

It's a great concerto. What's not to like? I've even conducted it with former BBC Young Musician, Anna Markland as soloist! My own favourite recording is the classic Clifford Curzon on Decca.

I would certainly resist listening to the work more than once or twice in a year, however. I find that one modest teaspoon of sugar on my cornflakes lasts me the whole bowl!

 

[Todd A]

Next, the first stereo recording with Alfred Wallenstein and the RCA Victor Symphony Orchestra, from 1956. Tempi are broadened a bit, and the benefits of stereo recording are evident. Wallenstein gets solid playing from the cellos (he’d better), and all the strings, with those extra mics picking up some nice little figurations. All the while, Rubinstein’s tone sounds more beautiful, his tempi less pressed, his playing perhaps a little less rock solid than before. The slow movement is where this version shows its strengths. More fine cello playing, and gorgeous playing from Rubinstein permeate the movement. In the finale, there’s still drama and drive, and beautiful playing in the slow section, and it sounds more laid-back romantic than fiery, when compared to the Dorati.

 

[Todd A]

The last Rubinstein, also with Alfred Wallenstein and the RCA Victor Symphony Orchestra, from 1961. The elderly Rubinstein’s take is the broadest of all. The more distantly recorded piano aside, the interpretation is the same, just slower. That yields the most beautiful of all slow movements and slow section of the finale, but the overall energy level is lower, though Wallenstein still brings it home nicely.

 

[DGP]

I'd recommend Sigurd Slåttebrekk's 'Chasing the Butterfly' recording of the concerto with the Oslo Philharmonic and Michail Jurowski which came off the back of his research into Grieg's performing style and a recording made on Grieg's own piano at Troldhaugen. I heard parts broadcast and just had to special order the CDs - Simax PSC1299.

 

[Todd A]

A couple from Benno Moiseiwitsch follow, starting with his 1941 recording with the Halle Orchestra directed by Leslie Heward. The timps sound taut, and Moiseiwitsch’s entrance has plenty of fire. The magic, though, happens in his return, where his effortless playing finds him delivering glorious sound and ample dexterity, though some fudges occur. The slow movement offers elegant, beautiful playing, and in the finale Moiseiwitsch alternates between fire and elegance. The orchestral playing is nice enough, if perhaps a tad scrappy in places, and the recorded sound and balances are not optimal, marring a still fine recording.

 

[alanbeeb]

I'd recommend Sigurd Slåttebrekk's 'Chasing the Butterfly' recording of the concerto with the Oslo Philharmonic and Michail Jurowski which came off the back of his research into Grieg's performing style and a recording made on Grieg's own piano at Troldhaugen. I heard parts broadcast and just had to special order the CDs - Simax PSC1299.

That set has excellent reviews too - I will give it a try soon.

 

[Todd A]

Moiseiwitsch’s second recording with Otto Ackermann and the Philharmonia from about a decade later is in better sound, with better orchestral playing. Moiseiwitsch’s tone becomes brittle in louder passages, though in softer passages he still sounds elegant. Alas, in some of the more virtuosic passages, like in the first movement cadenza, there are more imperfections than in the earlier recording. Due to improved recorded sound, the Adagio comes off very well, with Moiseiwitsch’s tone in the quietest playing sounding very lovely, indeed. The third movement, with a distracting edit quite obviously blending different recording sessions, fares best in the slower music, with the faster and louder passages sounding at times brittle and rushed, but still exciting. While there are some nice things here, it’s not a favorite.

 

[Todd A]

Second tier names Pascal Devoyon and Jerzy Maksymiuk with the London Philharmonic come next. The opening timps are brisk and punchy, and Devoyon’s entry has oomph and rubato to satisfy, but then as all assembled move forward in a 13’41” opening movement, long stretches of luxuriance appear. Devoyon pays attention to the smallest details, delivering fantastic little accents and perfectly weighted arpeggios. Maksymiuk, aided by a goodly number of microphones, brings attention to orchestral detail, with so many little nice touches and such lovely string playing that one’s ears flit from this to that. The fully modern recording offers fine dynamic contrasts and balances the piano almost perfectly, sometimes pushing it to the background, but mostly bringing it to the foreground. Devoyon brings elegance and refinement throughout, and expertly plays with tempi. His lead-in to the cadenza is slow and sparse, followed by a flash of notes, more slow playing, stretching the line, then bravura virtuosity mixed with pedal aided haze. Mmm hmm. Things get even better in the slow movement. Maksymiuk plays with luxuriance bordering on the Wagnerian, or at least Szymanowskian. Devoyon’s playing is slow and purposeful, with all manner of dynamic gradations in the pp to mp range, with some hefty low register weight thrown in when needed. Devoyon foregoes a barnstorming open to the finale, instead letting the music sort of unfold. He amps things up a bit, but he never really just goes for gusto when musical ends can be achieved.

This recording bewitched me the first time I heard it years ago, and its spell remains unbroken. I think I know why Steven Isserlis has made multiple recordings with Devoyon. And Jerzy Maksymiuk, though he appears rarely in my collection – some Szymanowski, Haydn, and Mozart along with this disc – delivers here as in those recordings.

 

[alanbeeb]

Second tier names Pascal Devoyon and Jerzy Maksymiuk with the London Philharmonic come next. The opening timps are brisk and punchy, and Devoyon’s entry has oomph and rubato to satisfy, but then as all assembled move forward in a 13’41” opening movement, long stretches of luxuriance appear. Devoyon pays attention to the smallest details, delivering fantastic little accents and perfectly weighted arpeggios. Maksymiuk, aided by a goodly number of microphones, brings attention to orchestral detail, with so many little nice touches and such lovely string playing that one’s ears flit from this to that. The fully modern recording offers fine dynamic contrasts and balances the piano almost perfectly, sometimes pushing it to the background, but mostly bringing it to the foreground. Devoyon brings elegance and refinement throughout, and expertly plays with tempi. His lead-in to the cadenza is slow and sparse, followed by a flash of notes, more slow playing, stretching the line, then bravura virtuosity mixed with pedal aided haze. Mmm hmm. Things get even better in the slow movement. Maksymiuk plays with luxuriance bordering on the Wagnerian, or at least Szymanowskian. Devoyon’s playing is slow and purposeful, with all manner of dynamic gradations in the pp to mp range, with some hefty low register weight thrown in when needed. Devoyon foregoes a barnstorming open to the finale, instead letting the music sort of unfold. He amps things up a bit, but he never really just goes for gusto when musical ends can be achieved.

This recording bewitched me the first time I heard it years ago, and its spell remains unbroken. I think I know why Steven Isserlis has made multiple recordings with Devoyon. And Jerzy Maksymiuk, though he appears rarely in my collection – some Szymanowski, Haydn, and Mozart along with this disc – delivers here as in those recordings.

Yes it an unexpected gem of a disc. The partnering Schumann is equally good. I also have an excellent account of both the Shostakovich Piano Concertos with Maksymiuk conducting the English Chamber Orchestra, with Dmitri Alexeev on the ivories. I think its also on CfP.

Funny thing is though, Maksymiuk was the chief conductor of the BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra when I was a very young classical newbie more than 30 years ago. I went to see them perform at the then brand-new Glasgow Royal Concert Hall one Friday night, can't remember what the first part of the programme was, but the 2nd half was Tchaikovsky's 5th Symphony. I can safely say it was the worst live classical performance I have ever attended. It was sleepy, sloppily played - the wind & brass sections blew raspberries for most of their notes! No idea what was going on but I can safely say that the BBC Scottish has improved massively since then.

 

[Todd A]

Julius Katchen and Istvan Kertesz with the Israel Philharmonic. The left to right channel timp roll intro hints at an exciting version, and Katchen’s intro does as well. The orchestral playing displays fairly virtuosic style, and then Katchen’s return is all about super-speedy virtuoso playing of the basically empty variety, though when he starts to play slower music he brings more beauty to the mix. Mostly though, the opening movement is about playing to the gallery. The Adagio, with old-fashioned Decca multimiking and spotlighting, has some vibrato heavy strings adding some romance, and Katchen turns his supervirtuosity to delivering some lovely playing, though it sounds entirely empty. The finale follows the same approach, but in the cadenza, Katchen goes to the edge of his technique, nearly setting the keyboard ablaze. There’s much excitement, but little musical satisfaction.

 

[Todd A]

Sviatoslav Richter with Lovro von Matačić and the Monte Carlo band. Nice timps lead to Richter starting off big and bold and moving into sweeping, grand playing. Whenever and wherever Richter is called on to play slowly or with tenderness, he of course does. He brings proceedings to a dead stop at the outset of the cadenza, dashes off the virtuosic passages with panache and nicely differentiated dynamics, playing at different levels for left and right hand in some places. He brings musicianship to his virtuosity. Matačić and crew nearly keep up. The Adagio sounds subdued and elevated, with Richter bringing some of his later Schubert sublimity to the playing, though it never sounds ravishingly beautiful. The finale has mucho energy and pep, some really clear bassoon playing, and generally works nicely enough. It’s all very well done, but at times it seems that Richter is playing beyond the band. Had he had as sympathetic a partner as Devoyon, this would be even better. The at times bright, harsh sound and pedal stomping are there but not deleterious.

 

[Todd A]

Alice Sara Ott with Esa-Pekka Salonen in Bavaria. Nice timps and broad, flowing playing from Ott start things off. The first movement is on the laid-back side tempo wise, and Ott flits effortless back and forth between potent forte bravura playing and more beautiful playing. Everything seems to just glide along so well. Salonen gets the playing he wants, but the orchestral sound is sort of a modern dynamic range blob, lacking the clarity Matačić or Maksymiuk get. It’s an engineering thing. The Adagio is very much Ott-centered, and her playing sounds unfailingly beautiful. Like Katchen, it does not sound deep; it's all surface playing. The same holds true in the finale, which Ott takes at a pleasant tempo, one sufficient to generate heat, but one also able to let her play beautifully, especially in the slow section. In some ways, this is something of a contemporary Katchen take, one where technique dominates, but Ott’s playing sounds more fluid and more beautiful, and it is therefore better overall. Plus, the recording includes some gobsmackingly great solo Grieg.

 

[Todd A]

Van Cliburn with Eugene Ormandy and the Phillies. Potent timps, and a grand, sweeping opening from Cliburn gives way to a broad opening movement where Cliburn displays his proclivity to play with tonal beauty and slow luxuriance. He can and does turn it on when he needs to, but he was just never an outright hypervirtuoso. Ormandy and his band sound much better in stereo here than for Rubinstein, adding some heft and richness and weight. The cadenza starts slow and insofar as the dodgy sounding piano allows, Cliburn relishes the little details, dispatched with Ottian effortlessness. The Philly strings sound absolutely fantastic in the Adagio, and Cliburn does his thing, playing with at times nearly stupid beauty. The finale is a bit broadly paced, but it is bold and rich, with Cliburn doing his thing, at times swelling in forte playing to nearly match the band, and Ormandy brings the grandeur. Rock solid.

 

[Todd A]

The great Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli with the great Alceo Galliera in La Scala. Tight timps, thundering piano, a lovely orchestral reprise, then the young ABM displays his pianistic chops as much as the aged recording allows. Precise tempo and dynamic control, lovely tone, and ridiculously, perfectly manicured playing already displaying the prepared to the Nth degree style he took even further later in his career. Like with Cliburn, the broad opening movement tempo allows the pianist to indulge in luxuriant control, though ABM goes further. The decent mono sound does not allow the full beauty and luster of the La Scala band to emerge, and it is not as tight as Philly, but Galliera, one of the great accompanists, supports his soloist just so, and he displays perfect timing thanks to that theater background. The Adagio comes in at over seven minutes, and ABM offers a masterclass in slow, tender, beautiful, embalmed playing. That seems negative, but it’s not. This is idealized Grieg playing. The finale has oomph and pep where appropriate, but it is in the dreamy slow section where ABM again shines.

 

[Todd A]

ABM partnered with Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos and the New Philharmonia. I’ve not listened to this recording in perhaps a half-decade, and probably more. The opening electrifies. ABM tears it up, blasting forward with speed and near ferocity, married to accuracy and resolutely attractive playing. It just smokes. Burgos keeps up, getting the band to do what needs to be done. ABM does slow down here and there, and does so expertly, but here it’s all about of-the-moment intensity. The playing and performance are blue hot. The Adagio shaves a minute off the earlier version, and one can hear the increased tension from the first notes in the orchestra. When ABM plays starting at just after a couple minutes in, he goes for beauty, but he does not take his foot off the gas. The movement presses forward with unstoppable momentum and keyboard roars in the loudest passages. The finale accelerates and intensifies things further. Michelangeli was on fire in the concert, and he just unloads passage after passage. The pianistic display awes – no one plays better. It has been years since I listened, and the sheer energy just bulldozes everything. When the flute announces the arrival of the slow section, it comes just in time for the listener to catch one’s breath. ABM does not go slow, per se, but he slows way down, and the way he front loads some phrases makes one jealous of all those who got to hear him in person. This performance thrills and beguiles. It’s what Katchen and Kertesz tried to do. One of the great Grieg PC recordings from one of the greatest BBC Legends discs. Amazing.