Piano Concerto in A minor, Op. 16

[Todd A]

Eva Knardahl with Kjell Ingebretsen and the Royal Philharmonic. It’s a BIS original dynamics recording! The slow first movement starts with crisp timps and broad, large-scaled playing from Knardahl. Knardahl doesn’t even bother trying to play in an especially virtuosic manner, instead preferring to play more slowly and let the music breathe. That’s not to say she’s not up to snuff, because the cadenza, for instance, is quite good, but this is not a barn-storming version, very much on purpose. Her use of a Bösendorfer brings brighter upper registers and weightier lower registers, which blends very well with her style. The Adagio starts with lovely orchestral playing with especially attractive string playing. Knardhal shines, coaxing beautiful playing out of her instrument and taking her sweet time doing it, and she happily takes on an almost obbligato approach in some passages. This is about musical flow and beauty, not super-heated intensity, and those bright upper register trills sound just nifty. The finale is a bit slow, though here Knardhal plays some passages at a nice velocity, though with reduced volume. There’s a comparatively relaxed feel to the whole thing, with only the hardest hitting tuttis sounding intense. This is how to do a slow take on the concerto. Not one of the greats, but excellent for what it is.

 

[Todd A]

Stewart Goodyear with Stanislav Bogunia and the Czech National Symphony. Because sometimes you want to listen to a pianist with unlimited technical prowess play. Bogunia starts things off with conventional if hard hitting timps, and Goodyear enters in grand, fast fashion. He dispatches some bars with ease and force and control and musical substance that sort of sounds like what Katchen was going for. He’s not afraid to lay off, play beautifully, and fade into obbligato playing much like Knardahl. But really, with this pianist, one listens for the virtuoso elements, and he does not disappoint. That written, Goodyear sees no reason to go full virtuoso, even in the cadenza, when more nuance can help in passages. But then he can and does deliver in a perfectly controlled coda. Goodyear goes for a slow Adagio, and he manages to play quite beautifully, sometimes slowly, sometimes in a manner that sounds slower than it is, and always using those magic fingers to make the music sing. The finale bops along with energy and rhythmic elan, with Goodyear chewing up and spitting out the hard stuff, and adding some rubato here and there, just because. He delivers lovely playing in the slow section, too. And the build up to and then the coda are high voltage. An extremely fine, unabashedly virtuoso take on the concerto.

 

[Todd A]

The Z Man and Fluffy. There’s never any possible doubt about execution and sound. The strings dominate whenever the orchestra plays, overpowering winds, and Zimerman plays with control and exactitude that might intimidate even Michelangeli. But man, is the opening movement slow and almost syrupy. Zimerman uses his Zimerman-level technique to deliver slow, gorgeous playing, with the unassailable beauty of each note seemingly and end in itself. No one could possibly fault his precise dynamic control, either. As an example of pianistic perfection, it operates at the highest level. Of course the Adagio has gorgeous string playing, gorgeous orchestral playing generally, and obviously Zimerman plays the slow music at the limits of human abilities to generate pianistic beauty. And then the standard he sets is surpassed in the finale, which on either side of the slow section is filled with grand, virtuosic playing in the grand manner. I’ve never been particularly fond of this recording, even though its technical merits are never in doubt, and despite the fact that Zimerman is one of my favorite pianists. But there you go.

 

[Todd A]

In every survey, there has to be a worst recording, and this is it. Alexey Zuev’s recording on a mid-19th Century keyboard and backed by Kenneth Montgomery leading the Orchestra of the 18th Century falls flat. First, the keyboard sucks. It lacks the sustain and color and ability to generate satisfying forte and fortissimo playing this work demands. Also, it ain’t so hot down low. The orchestra sounds anemic, with the clarity amplifying that. Making matters worse is the slow overall tempo of the opening movement, which seems several minutes longer than it actually is. Fortunately, the Adagio is not quite as unpleasant, but it nonetheless doesn’t work. The finale mashes up the first two movement in not working at all and not working. Rather as with Ms Ott, the solo Grieg selections work better, though Zuev in no way matches Ott.

 

[Todd A]

Back to a hypervirtuoso, this time György Cziffra paired with Andre Vandernoot and the Philharmonia. Like Zimerman, Cziffra favors a very broad overall tempo for the first movement. Some other things are the same. Some things different. First, after the just fine timp, Cziffra delivers sweeping, grand playing, and he can and does blast out the virtuosic passages with ease. He also delivers some the quieter passages with some real nuance and gentleness, and his dynamic gradations and clarity in the pp-p really sounds fantastic. So far, this is all very similar to Zimerman. Thing is, the playing sounds freer and less contrived, more flowing, which does not align with Cziffra’s more common, flamboyant playing. His take on the cadenza is almost the archetype of the super-virtuoso approach. He dashes off some of the playing at dizzying speed, plays the quite music beautifully, uses long pauses for dramatic effect, thunders out the loudest music for even more drama, and plays with so much tonal and dynamic variability, and with such freedom, that other takes, even exceptionally well-done ones, sound staid and bland. In a slow Adagio, Cziffra ups the ante in terms of delivering delicate, nuanced, gorgeous playing. He’s not all gentle playing, spicing things up where needed, but he’s far removed from the over-the-top stylings he brings to other composers. It’s all terribly un-Cziffra-like. This gets reinforced when the seven plus minutes ends long before the listener wants it to. The finale sees Cziffra dispatching virtuoso passages with ease, playing beautifully, and bringing his A-game in an energetic, flowing manner. Hot stuff.

 

[Todd A]

Cziffra again, with his son leading the Budapest Symphony Orchestra. Similar in overall conception, this recording ends up sounding more superficial, and more overtly virtuosic for the sake of virtuosity. This applies to the piano playing and the orchestral playing. To be sure, Cziffra again demonstrates his ability to play beautifully, especially in the very long Adagio, but the whole thing is too sleek for its own good. It’s certainly not bad, and there are multiple moments that work exceedingly well, and the differences are small between his two versions are small, but cumulatively they result in a notably less satisfying take.

 

[Todd A]

Janne Mertanen and Hannu Koivula and the Gavle Symphony Orchestra. A big open by the band and soloist transitions to a well executed first movement, just slightly on the broad side, that mostly sounds beautiful, some upper register piano notes aside. It’s all perfectly fine and basically unmemorable. The same applies to the not even fleetingly engaging cadenza. The slow Adagio sounds attractive in an anodyne way. The finale blends the first two movements in a perfectly forgettable way. I remember when this recording was hot stuff and some pianophiles praised Mertanen to the heavens, with this recording the main example. Try as I might, it has just never clicked with me. His Chopin concertos, on the other hand . . .

 

[Todd A]

Murray Perahia and Colin Davis with the BRSO. Perahia at first glance would seem to be a pianist well suited to deliver one of the great recordings of the Grieg concerto. Not a barn-storming virtuoso, but rather a pianist displaying both virtuosity and taste, he should be able to bring to bear all his formidable talents to this piece. He does, kind of. Davis can and does deliver some muscular support, and Perahia can and does deliver a muscular opening, and he delivers some fine playing in the more extroverted passages, but in the slower and quieter passages, while no slouch, he just doesn’t deliver magic or anything especially distinct or memorable. Now, in the Adagio, Perahia brings his A-game, starting off nearly inaudibly, gradually building up, then tapering off wonderfully. He moves back and forth wonderfully throughout, and really does good work. The finale has ample energy, but some of the more bravura passages seems somewhat undernourished, too limited dynamically, though they do flow nicely. The whole thing does. This is not in any way a bad recording, it’s just not top shelf.

 

[Todd A]

Walter Gieseking and Wilhelm Furtwangler, presumably in Berlin, from a few lifetimes ago. It has been so long since I listened to this recording – at least twenty years – that it is the equivalent of new to me. The opening movement comes in at under eleven minutes, indicating some cuts, and of course some super-zippy playing from Gieseking in his live performance freewheeling manner. Jumping around the keyboard without a care in the world, he dispatches runs and big blobs of passages in an insouciant manner bordering on the reckless. But then, that’s the way it should be. There are certainly moments of excitement, and the orchestral tempo taffy pulling sounds good, especially in the context of a concert. The Adagio comes in at a taut 5’34”, and Gieseking offers a masterclass in how to play slow music swiftly and beautifully. The finale has some nice playing in the slow section, lots of energy and excitement, some patches of sloppiness by Gieseking, and works in the context of the performance. There’s no doubt that this would have been a fine performance to attend, but I’m not sure it needed to be recorded for posterity.

 

[Todd A]

Yukio Yokoyama and Neeme Järvi and the Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra. A proper timp open segues to quick, light, crisp, purely Apollonian playing by Yokoyama. What he may lack in romantic gestures and nuanced tinkering, he makes up for in precisely graded dynamics, springy as all get out rhythmic elan, and clarity. It sounds vibrant and spontaneous. It very much sounds like his early LvB concertos in its vitality and refusal to be weighed down. Now, when he needs to rip, he does, and his cadenza has hypervirtuosity to match anyone’s. In the slow movement, he brings more tonal variegation, though clarity remains more prominent. And as his Emperor demonstrates, Yokoyama delivers trills as well as anyone on disc. The final movement is all vim and vigor to start, with Yokoyama seeming to (rightly) please the live audience. He hammers music out when needed, and he delivers an attractive slow section before launching into a full throttle close. Järvi and band keep up, bring out details nicely, and generally sound just swell. There’s much to enjoy here, though it’s ultimately not a top tier recording. Like with Ott, some fine solo Grieg is included in the package, though Yokoyama sounds relatively better in the concerto.

 

[Todd A]

Starting in on the home stretch, with nothing but heavy hitters from this point. Herbert Schuch with Eivind Aadland and the WDR Symphony Orchestra Cologne come next. A slow to start timp roll segues to Schuch, who plays with grand style, but also interventionism of the highest order. He deploys rubato effectively, and even the way he ends chords, ending some notes while sustaining other for a split second longer, enthralls. He then basically doesn’t leave anything alone. He’s almost like Sherman or Mustonen, but his level of refinement sounds superior. His first take on slow music is arguably the most beautiful of any pianist’s, and the minute dynamic gradations, the perfect tonal control, the flawless clarity, all combine to make this a pianistic feast. The SOTA sound helps, and this is reinforced by the almost glowing sound of the orchestra, with wind playing and sound second to none. When Schuch has to deliver a big crescendo, he really delivers. He starts off the cadenza with an almost Brahmsian sound, switches to dazzling playing, switches to slow, at times distended playing heavy on poetry and punctuated by one fabulous left-hand note, before starting a slow, gradual build up to a thundering climax, before tapering off, all the way to pianissimo playing that Volodos would approve of. The slow Adagio starts with almost ridiculously beautiful string playing to rival any, and Schuch’s touch awes. Again, he will hold this or that note or chord for an extended period. Like Pogorelich in some of his DG recordings, Schuch does things just because he can, but they always work, and they’re not quite so extreme as the Croat’s interventions. The finale starts with energy and drive and virtuosic display, and then in the slow section, Schuch starts off with playing that could fairly be described as folk song like, and then he moves into outright pianistic poetry. He then plays some chunks of the faster music in an almost dancelike manner, but he also displays his virtuoso bona fides right through to the glorious end. I’m a huge Schuch fan. I even appreciate his penchant for ugly Christmas sweaters. Of course his take on the Grieg concerto is a favorite. One of the best of the best.

 

[Todd A]

Radu Lupu and Andre Previn with the LSO. A full force opening from band and soloist gives way to playing where Lupu displays all the virtuosity of Schuch, but without the idiosyncrasies, though at the expense of ultimate beauty. Lupu’s tempo choices, just a bit broad overall, feel just right and the piece moves forward at a just right pace. When Lupu needs to play gently, he does, and when he needs to unload, oh boy can he. Previn accompanies as well as anyone, staying perfectly in tune with Lupu. The cadenza is direct, mixing unaffected virtuosity and measured beauty just so. The Adagio sounds glorious, with Previn getting weighty, beautiful playing, and Lupu playing gorgeously, and more or less as straightforward as possible, and it works. It’s like an aural palette cleanser. The finale moves between fast and slow effortlessly, and Lupu again delivers a no-nonsense, no frills take that works fantastically well. One of the greats.

 

[tuga]

Radu Lupu and Andre Previn with the LSO. A full force opening from band and soloist gives way to playing where Lupu displays all the virtuosity of Schuch, but without the idiosyncrasies, though at the expense of ultimate beauty. Lupu’s tempo choices, just a bit broad overall, feel just right and the piece moves forward at a just right pace. When Lupu needs to play gently, he does, and when he needs to unload, oh boy can he. Previn accompanies as well as anyone, staying perfectly in tune with Lupu. The cadenza is direct, mixing unaffected virtuosity and measured beauty just so. The Adagio sounds glorious, with Previn getting weighty, beautiful playing, and Lupu playing gorgeously, and more or less as straightforward as possible, and it works. It’s like an aural palette cleanser. The finale moves between fast and slow effortlessly, and Lupu again delivers a no-nonsense, no frills take that works fantastically well. One of the greats.

I like that recording. Lupu is one of the top-tier players I've been fortunate to listen to and see live.

 

[Todd A]

A short while before deciding to work through a big slug of recordings, I relistened to the Freire/Kempe version, which acted as a spark for this undertaking. So now it’s time to listen again. The outcome is foreordained. The piece blasts out of the gate, with both band and pianist starting in high energy mode and never backing off. The young Freire displays his masterful chops, zipping through the fast passages with silly good accuracy and articulation, and then delivering some nicely slowed and cooled slow playing. It reminds the listener of ABM’s live recording to an extent, though it’s not as hot; the studio allows for smoothing it out. The cadenza is a virtuoso feast. Freire goes for a quick, taut, high-tension Adagio, yet he never fails to play with immense beauty and rhythmic fluidity. The finale has a standard tempo and Freire and Kempe go for the bold approach, with lots of oomph and energy, and even with all the great pianists covered up to this point, it is fair to say that Freire matches anyone. Yeah, this is a youthful, virtuosic take on this concerto, and it works supremely well. Kempe and the band offer perfectly tailored support.

 

[Todd A]

Finally, it’s time for Leif Ove Andsnes, starting with his first recording with Dimitri Kitaenko and the Bergen Philharmonic. A fairly slow opening movement starts off with ample energy and speed from band and soloist, with Andsnes’ return flowing, not too slow, not too fast, before jumping into playing displaying musical virtuosity giving up not a whole lot of anything to anyone. Kitaenko makes sure the timps get more love in the movement, or at least the engineers did, and it sounds nice. Andsnes displays mastery as he moves between more relaxed and more virtuosic playing. The cadenza is less overtly virtuosic than many others, but Andsnes adds some nice, musical touches, especially as it ends. (There’s also some audible pedal action.) The slow Adagio boasts some lovely string playing, especially the cellos, and Andsnes goes for a slow, lovely, and light approach. Swift, energetic, rhythmically vibrant, and comparatively light is the best way to describe the fleet opening of the finale, and the playing after the slow section. The slow section itself sounds beautiful but slight. Overall, an excellent version.

 

[Todd A]

Now for the version with Jansons in Berlin. Appreciably quicker overall, the band and Leif start off with ample oomph, and then Andsnes returns with a more flexible, more nuanced take that sounds even smoother than before. He dispatches the more virtuosic playing quickly, but it sounds less flashy. While his does not display the touch of Schuch, it improves on the Virgin recording. Jansons has the BPO at his disposal, so whenever the orchestra pops in, it does top tier work. Andsnes’ piano playing sounds less bright overall, more textured, more beautiful, and more relaxed in the sense that he never seems to stress or push the music harder than it should be pushed. The cadenza melds perfectly virtuosic fast playing, a dramatic climax, and occasionally cutting right hand playing in perfect proportion. The Adagio is also notably quicker than the first recording, and no doubt about it, the Berliners provide some of the very best support in the survey. Andsnes improves upon the earlier recording by playing more beautifully, delivering more perfectly realized accelerandos, and turning somewhat swift playing into music that fully conveys the appropriate affect more typically reserved for slower playing. He adds a bit more heat, a bit more drama, too. The finale finds Andsnes pulling out all the stops. It’s fast. It’s dramatic. It’s passionate. It’s virtuosic. And in the slow section, the delicate strings and winds introduce gorgeous, delicate, but not too slow or syrupy keyboard playing. Andsnes and Jansons then rip through the remainder of the movement just so. Everything about the movement, the work is basically perfect.


Andsnes in Berlin retains top spot, fending off intense challenges from Michelangeli from over a half century ago, and from Schuch from the last few years, as well as any number of other piano titans. The outcome does not surprise, but the journey was the whole point, and I got to revisit some recordings I’ve not heard in many moons. Now I think I need another new recording of the work.

 

[Todd A]

After the most exhaustive, scientifically rigorous survey of Grieg’s Piano Concerto that has ever been or ever could be undertaken, the definitive and objective ranking of recordings can now be revealed:

Top Tier
Andsnes/Jansons
Michelangeli/Burgos
Schuch/Aadland
Lupu/Previn
Freire/Kempe
Devoyon/Maksymiuk
Sherman/Silverstein
Tokarev/Elts
Cziffra/Vandernoot
Mustonen/Blomstedt


Second Tier
Moravec/Erdelyi
Richter/Matačić
Michelangeli/Galliera
Andsnes/Kitaenko
Lipatti/Galliera
Rubinstein/Dorati
Goodyear/Bogunia
Cliburn/Ormandy
Anda/Kubelik
Rubinstein/Wallenstein ('56)


Third Tier
Moog/Milton
Yokoyama/Järvi
Knardahl/Ingebretsen
Moiseiwitsch/Heward
Backhaus/Barbirolli
Perahia/Davis
Fleisher/Szell
Kovacevich/Davis
Rubinstein/Ormandy
Ott/Salonen


Fourth Tier
Zimerman/Karajan
Cziffra/Cziffra
Gieseking/Furtwangler
Mertanen/Koivula
Rubinstein/Wallenstein ('61)
Moiseiwitsch/Ackermann
Arrau/Dohnanyi
Thibaudet/Gergiev
Katchen/Kertesz
Zuev/Montgomery

 

[alanbeeb]

Having since heard this version - think you need to hear it too @Todd A !

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]

I will make it a point to listen to Slåttebrekk at some point. I'm not much of a fan of recordings using composers' pianos, but then the one Slåttebrekk disc of Schumann I have heard is top notch, so I already know he is the real deal.

 

[DGP]

I will make it a point to listen to Slåttebrekk at some point. I'm not much of a fan of recordings using composers' pianos, but then the one Slåttebrekk disc of Schumann I have heard is top notch, so I already know he is the real deal.

He only uses the composer's piano for the solo piano Lyric pieces/Sonata and not for the concerto as I understand it.

The performance is also available on a two disc set called Norwegian Heartland on the SIMAX label.