Piano Concerto in A minor, Op. 16

[Todd A]

From a lion of the past to a lion of the present, Joseph Moog with frequent collaborator Nicholas Milton and a long named German band. Moog in person is the most poised pianist I’ve seen – he made Hamelin seem discombobulated, and the Canadian was cool as a cucumber. Moog can play anything. Here, the open is conventional tight timps followed by large scale playing by Moog, before settling into a somewhat laid-back take on the opening movement. (Coming after the ’65 ABM is sure to result in such an impression.) Moog holds back, playing fast, slow, lovely, quiet, loud, whatever, and a sense of restraint and propriety permeates the take. When he plays with unabashed speed at just after six minutes, he rivals ABM and may sound more effortless than Ott. He starts the cadenza slowly then glitters his way through some passages. The slightly broad Adagio allows the band to play with lovely string tone, and it finds Moog delivering beautiful and clear playing. No need to unduly thicken the music here. The finale demonstrates high octane, if Apollonian playing from the soloist, and fine, clean support from the band. There’s much to enjoy here, but it’s not a top tier take. Moog is young now, and was even younger when this was recorded and, unfortunately, nominated for a Grammy. Perhaps he can revisit and up his formidable game.

 

[Todd A]

Stephen Kovacevich partnered with Colin Davis and the BBC Symphony Orchestra, played at impolite volume. So, here’s a recording that’s both fun to listen to, but something of a miss. There’s certainly no complaining about the quality of playing as playing, from either soloist or band. But the interpretation has always left me cold. Kovacevich does best in the virtuosic passages. In the Adagio, he plays with precious little subtlety or beauty, instead he hammers out a lot of the music with edgy sforzandi. A few passages sound gentle, but not many. The final movement marries bravura and harder than it should be soft playing in an energetic movement. This is a good performance to put on, crank up, and do some type of physical activity – exercise, say, or housecleaning.

 

[alanbeeb]

I think I read somewhere that Kovacevich didn't even like the Grieg Concerto and never performed it... But the record company insisted he had to record it and so he obliged.

 

[Todd A]

I think I read somewhere that Kovacevich didn't even like the Grieg Concerto and never performed it... But the record company insisted he had to record it and so he obliged.

I don't know the full story on Kovacevich and the Grieg, but here's a Gramophone article where he was one of two pianists consulted: https://www.gramophone.co.uk/features/article/masterclass-grieg-s-piano-concerto

 

[Todd A]

Leon Fleisher and George Szell in Cleveland, of all places. Crisp, tight timps to open, with a high voltage announcement by Fleisher, gives way to a broad overall tempo first movement of great flexibility, and very Apollonian sensibilities. While Fleisher hammers out some music, and Szell follows his lead, it’s tightly conceived, with little in the way of gooey rubato or gooey anything. It’s no-nonsense music-making. The broad Adagio sounds faster than its timing, no little thanks going to the virtuosic Clevelanders in one of the more satisfyingly executed openings to the movement. Fleisher plays with no little calmness and beauty, even if his trills tend to just sound quick and nothing else. The finale succeeds more in the faster sections than the nice slow section. While this recording is entirely demeritless from an execution standpoint, it does not match up to other recordings. Part of that is a blind spot I have for Fleisher’s pianism; for some reason, it just never really clicks with me.

 

[Todd A]

Russell Sherman with Joseph Silverstein and the Utah Symphony. One is always guaranteed interventionist playing by Mr Sherman, and some may love it, others may hate it. Me? Well. The first movement comes in at a hair over fourteen minutes, placing it on the slow side. That is not obvious with the timps and the sweeping and grand as all get out entrance of Sherman, nor with the orchestral playing that follows. Come Sherman’s return it becomes more obvious, as do the mannerisms. Excess rubato, heavy and thick chords, distended arpeggios, some jackhammer sforzandi here and there for no reason, and wide dynamic range applied seemingly willy-nilly: check, check, check, check, and check. Sherman plays very slowly sometimes, for short passages, as does the band, and Sherman more than most other pianists is more than willing to fade into the background briefly and sound like he’s playing an obbligato part. A silent start to the cadenza turns into some passing glittering playing followed by slow playing before building into a quasi-Lisztian torrent of notes, and the movement ends on a romantic note, as it were. The Adagio, coming in at a slow 7’18”, starts with the orchestra does some lovely things, but this is the Sherman show. He plays some of the music so slowly, emphasizing each note and letting them just hang there at times, that it is truly a miracle that he does not break the musical line. But when single notes end up sounding monumental, it doesn’t matter. The playing doesn’t really carry much in the way of musical weight, a sense of searching, and so forth, it just sort of hypnotizes. The finale opens with Sherman playing more slowly than any other pianist, and then after the orchestral tutti his playing speeds up, but more than that he makes every note distinct and audible. The effect illuminates the score but does not initially seem to make sense, until it does. He then proceeds to some more quasi-Lisztian and at times downright heavy and thick playing, complete with audible vocalizing. (Vocalizing pops up in multiple places.) The slow playing reprises the feel of the Adagio, and then the return to fast playing again starts slower than normal, and Sherman adds dynamic shifts, seemingly mid-chord, for no other reason than to just do so. He also plays some of the music as some type of faux-waltz or overly dramatic dance – and it works. Sherman and crew then bring the work to a satisfying, romantic close, displaying the unique approach on display heretofore. So, I love it, as I basically love all of Sherman’s recordings. It’s an acquired taste. Mr Silverstein and the band do good work.

 

[alanbeeb]

I don't know the full story on Kovacevich and the Grieg, but here's a Gramophone article where he was one of two pianists consulted: https://www.gramophone.co.uk/features/article/masterclass-grieg-s-piano-concerto

Hmm... my memory could be tricking me, it was a long time ago. Maybe it was Radu Lupu? Google does not seem to find it.

 

[Todd A]

Hmm... my memory could be tricking me, it was a long time ago. Maybe it was Radu Lupu? Google does not seem to find it.

Looks like Lupu played it live:

I know various pianists had to record repertoire they didn't perform, and I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case with this work.

 

[Todd A]

Geza Anda and Rafael Kubelik in Berlin. Proper timp open, strong open by Anda, and then things move on to good, proper old school music making. Things are neither rushed nor slow, dynamics are wide but not outsized, Anda plays incredibly well, but not in a hypervirtuosic manner. He lets the playing breathe and brings nice clarity. The cadenza follows a similar music first, virtuosity second approach. Given the opener, it’s no surprise at all that the Adagio sounds beautiful. Anda lavishes attention and often downright gentleness, with Kubelik offering support of his smoothest, most flowing type. The finale starts off slower than normal, with Anda opting to focus on clarity, and then Kubelik transitions to the slow section beautifully, Anda does his thing, and then they up the ante a bit to the coda.

 

[tuga]

Geza Anda and Rafael Kubelik in Berlin. Proper timp open, strong open by Anda, and then things move on to good, proper old school music making. Things are neither rushed nor slow, dynamics are wide but not outsized, Anda plays incredibly well, but not in a hypervirtuosic manner. He lets the playing breathe and brings nice clarity. The cadenza follows a similar music first, virtuosity second approach. Given the opener, it’s no surprise at all that the Adagio sounds beautiful. Anda lavishes attention and often downright gentleness, with Kubelik offering support of his smoothest, most flowing type. The finale starts off slower than normal, with Anda opting to focus on clarity, and then Kubelik transitions to the slow section beautifully, Anda does his thing, and then they up the ante a bit to the coda.

Sounds promising, I'll give it a listen tomorrow evening.

 

[alanbeeb]

The Anda/Kubelik/BPO recording, that was possibly my first classical purchase... It was on a DG "Walkman Classics" cassette with Sibelius Karelia Suite and Grieg's Peer Gynt. Must be near 40 years ago!

 

[Todd A]

Anda again, this time with Fluffy. With a nearly identical timing for the opening movement, the overall impression is similar, though Anda’s playing sounds brighter and a little less secure when he dashes off passages. The playing sounds comparatively unsteady. Karajan’s accompaniment sounds beautiful and more firmly shaped than Kubelik’s, which translates into less musical flow but more luscious orchestral sound. The slow movement amplifies this impression, though here, in places, Anda may sound even more beautiful. The finale again demonstrates the same overall attributes. Overall, the pairing with Kubelik satisfies more.

 

[Todd A]

Olli Mustonen and Herbert Blomstedt in San Fran. A fine timp opening, and a big, sweeping open from Mustonen gives way to a slow overall opener. Mustonen shows himself to be even more brazenly interventionist than Sherman, playing some of the music in such a distended, bloated, slow way that one can imagine Tzimon Barto nodding along while listening. Really, it’s just too much. Which means it’s just about enough. The first proper slow piano passage sounds lovely, but throughout, where other pianists may be apt to deploy legato, Mustonen is happy enough to play with incisive staccato just because. Like Sherman, not a bar goes by without some little intervention, and quite often they are big interventions. I mean, you listen, and then, blam, one chord gets belted out for no good reason, and phrases end up emphasizing the start because why not. The way he splashes out notes in the cadenza, only to follow up with a run so cleanly articulated one wouldn’t be surprised if it were studio trickery, and then builds to a Brahms meets Liszt meets, well, Grieg climax works just dandy. The slow movement opens with some gorgeous playing from the band, with Blomstedt bringing the magic with near-Wagnerian strings and brass. Mustonen maintains his penchant to tinker, though now he also displays dynamic control at the pp-p range to rival just about anyone in anything, save Volodos. The playing sounds beautiful, but it’s not even the beauty that the listener listens to; no, the listener listens to hear what Mustonen’s gonna do next. The fairly slow final movement sees more of what Mustonen did in the opener, playing far more slowly than normal in some passages just because he can, and then zipping through some passages cleanly, and others where seemingly every note is tweaked just because he can. Straight-forward passages are very much the exception. Underlying all this is rock steady, beautiful, and powerful support from Blomstedt, very much playing the straight man. Ultimately, this recording falls just short of Sherman’s because Sherman sounds nutso idiosyncratic but spontaneous while Mustonen sounds nutso idiosyncratic but studied. Make no mistake, this is a corker, in high end Decca sound. Listening, one can’t help but ponder a crucial question: when will UMG release a Mustonen complete edition?

 

[Todd A]

It was brought to my attention that the cited Anda/Karajan recording cover image is the same Anda/Kubelik recording. Since I put this together in December, my streaming history doesn't go back that far, so I'm not sure which recording it was. The timings were different, so it was a different recording. It was not Zimerman/Karajan since that is still coming. Since I was looking to put together a Top 40 list, I will have to listen to a new recording.

 

[Todd A]

I had to include a Wilhelm Backhaus recording. No, not his abridged 1910 version with a snare drum intro, but this later shellac version with John Barbirolli and The New Symphony Orchestra. A proper, crisp open and a propulsive start from Backhaus hands off back to Barbirolli, who gets lovely, taut playing, but it is when Backhaus returns that one hears what the middle-aged pianist could do closer to his technical prime, as he scampers along the keyboard in the fast music and coaxes beauty in the slower, but never really slow playing. He dashes off the cadenza with real brio. Backhaus keeps things extra zippy in the Adagio, yet maintains beauty, and really, his trills are some of the very best yet recorded, whether on shellac, tape, or hard drive. Completely in line with the performance to this point, the finale is high octane, fast, and all about excitement. This recording does offer a prime instance of just what Backhaus could do technically way back when, even though his best musical efforts were to come. Still, I make it a point to listen to his pre-war recordings from time to time. A titan he was.

 

[Todd A]

Nikolai Tokarev with Olari Elts and the Lucerne Symphony Orchestra. A swift timp crescendo promptly morphs into Tokarev’s big entry, which switches back to clean, clear orchestral playing. Then Tokarev digs in, and he effortlessly flows back and forth between bold, rich playing and swift, colorful, and effortless playing where dynamics are finely graded at all levels, accents whiz by, with endless, minor touches everywhere. His hushed arpeggios invite the listener to pay the utmost attention. The movement comes in at just over twelve minutes, but it never sounds rushed. Indeed, Tokarev manages to make fast playing sound leisurely, and the slower passages sound hauntingly beautiful and perfectly poised even when they are quick. Some sharp upper register playing serves to add color to the proceedings. Tokarev starts the cadenza off slow, zips through the faster playing, then unleashes in the massive climax, creating a quasi-orchestral vibe. The Adagio starts with lean, taut orchestral playing, then Tokarev enters with gorgeous, gentle playing that, when it speeds up, accelerates at just the perfect rate, and to the perfect dynamic level. Some other pianists emphasize each note, but Tokarev does not, instead creating proper relationships between notes, resulting in perfect phrasing and a cumulatively moving experience, though moving in an aesthetic rather than emotional way. And in those trills, he one-ups Backhaus by dispatching some with almost inhuman evenness at a soft piano level. Yep, yep, yep. The finale starts off with ample oomph and drive, and then accelerates, with the band playing extremely fast, and then Tokarev playing at least as fast as anyone else but making it sound stupid easy. The slow section boasts both gorgeous pianism and at least as gorgeous orchestral playing, and a big old pregnant pause before the final notes of the section. From that point its all energy and dynamic contrasts and drive right through to the end, with Tokarev basically matching the very greatest virtuosos in this survey. And all this in a live recording. (Hey, ABM was on fire, too.) Elts and his band play everything in perfect sympathy with the soloist, never sounding anything other than perfectly polished, yet never detracting from the soloist. One of the best.

 

[Todd A]

Time for another titan, this time Claudio Arrau paired with Christoph von Dohnanyi with the Concertgebouw. A long, gradual timp build up transitions to a grander than grand entrance by Arrau, before transitioning to an extremely long, slow, broad opening at 14’33”. Arrau does dash off some passages quite quickly, and with no little drama, but mostly he plays slow, with no little drama. Of course, his tone sounds fulsome and rich, and Dohnanyi’s slow ‘n’ gooey accompaniment fits perfectly with the soloist’s conception. The cadenza offers a solo encapsulation of the movement. To be sure, there are some absolutely wonderful passages sprinkled throughout, but they are interspersed with passages that work notably less well. Not at all surprisingly, Arrau’s broad approach works best in the over seven-minute Adagio, with big, rich, beautiful playing to relish. The final displays the same sound and hits and misses of the opening movement. Overall, an at times glorious, at times not take.

 

[Todd A]

The great Jean-Yves Thibaudet and Valery Gergiev in Rotterdam. A quick timp buildup segues to at times bright, at times weighty playing by Thibaudet, and then Gergiev gets some good playing with pronounced and exact vibrato. Thibaudet’s return is held under wraps, and is almost the whole movement, which sounds somewhat restrained, a sense made worse by the slightly opaque sound. Sure, Thibaudet dispatches some virtuosic passages with the best of them, but these are fleeting moments. Even the cadenza, dispatched with seeming ease, sounds somewhat low energy in spots. In the Adagio, Thibaudet shows that he can play as beautifully as anyone, and the movement fares nicely. It’s only in the opening of the finale, though, that things click, with soloist and band bopping along nicely, and then Thibaudet plays the slow section beautifully. Alas, the coda sounds kludgy . Overall, the performance doesn’t really work for me. Not one of Thibaudet’s best recordings.

 

[Todd A]

Ivan Moravec with Miklos Erdelyi and the Prague Symphony Orchestra. Quick open, with Moravec bringing the drama, and then in the orchestral return, the Prague winds play with a unique timbre unlike any other version. (Those oboes!) The somewhat spacious sound lets Moravec’s playing wax and wane dynamically, and he masterfully alternates tempi, creating a beautiful, fluid feel. He delivers in both the bravura and slow playing and punches out a clean if not note perfect cadenza that has both high energy and haunting beauty. Moravec nails the Adagio, with perfect pacing and dynamic gradation and beauty and affect, and the band matches him. The finale boasts a gorgeous slow section, and the fast sections sound energetic and bubbly, not too serious or heavy. It’s fun. Good stuff. Sound quality of this live recording is not tip-top, but it’s more than good enough, and the same can be said for the conductor and orchestra. A superb recording.

 

[Todd A]

Dinu Lipatti and Alceo Galliera with the Philharmonia. A blurred timp opening gives way to Lipatti going for the grand, sweeping intro. Galliera once again demonstrates A-list support, perfectly marrying support to the soloist stylistically and getting extremely fine playing from the band. Lipatti mostly plays with energy and bite, and some satisfying weight, even given the age of the recording. He also plays with no little nuance in the slower passages and delivers a more musical than empty virtuosic cadenza. The Adagio finds Lipatti playing poetically, affecting and it works very well indeed. It was his recording that first established how I prefer this movement to sound, and it still works. The finale has ample pep and drive where needed, and more fine playing the slow section. I’ve not listened to this recording in maybe a decade. It’s a bit better than I recalled, even if it does not end up a top choice.