Piano Concerto in D minor, K. 466: Addendum
Posted by: Todd A on 26 April 2005
I so enjoyed my survey of Mozart’s great D-minor piano concerto that I figured I ought to get another version or two. Or five. Yes, five more versions managed to find their way into my collection since I originally wrote my survey. A few of those were more or less by happenstance. For instance, I picked up Sviatoslav Richter’s 1959 recording with Witold Rowicki conducting as part of the historical recording box from the Beethoven Edition. (Beethoven’s cadenzas are used – see, it makes sense.) Guiomar Novaes’ recording showed up as part of a two Vox two-pack splurge, and Ivan Moravec’s recording appeared because I found a disc by Moravec that I didn’t already have on the cheap. The Rudolf Firkusny and Alfred Brendel recordings were purpose-bought. So how’d this new batch do? Well:
Sviatoslav Richter joins the pantheon of great D-minor interpreters. I thought I should just get it out of the way now. For whatever I write, it cannot suffice to adequately praise this recording. This is a wonderful reading. The piece opens slowly, darkly, and heavily – almost ponderously – with a rich sound from the orchestra. Richter’s entry is a thing of wonder: it is simultaneously dramatic and cautious, restrained. As he plays more notes, one can add attributes like clean, precise, articulate and possessed of a flawlessly measured staccato to the mix. Richter’s playing juxtaposes with the orchestras nicely. (That’s not to say the orchestra is sloppy, just that it’s less poised and restrained.) The Beethoven cadenza is essentially perfect; it is played as early Beethoven, with hints of earlier masters, and not the heaven-storming giant from the early years of the 19th Century. Wislocki ends the movement very strongly to cap off a peach of an opening movement. The second movement basically offers more of the same. Richter’s touch is remarkably light and delicate in the outer sections of the movement, and from a man who can hammer out Prokofiev’s War Sonatas with ferocity matched by few, and in the middle section his remarkable articulation offers unique glimpses into the music. Not surprisingly, the third movement continues on in the same fashion, with more sterling playing from the soloist and more dramatic playing from the Warsaw band. It’s a mesmerizing performance of pianistic grace ‘n’ taste coupled to old-time, big band theatrics. Superb early stereo sound from DG just adds to the substantial allure. A winner to be sure.
Next up is the venerable Ivan Moravec, in a 1997 Hanssler recording with the equally venerable Neville Marriner. The opening is a bit darker than I would have expected from Sir Neville, but, as always with this band, the playing is light on its feet, the band able to nimbly change direction instantly. A nicely accented sound in the strings, unique to all of the recordings I’ve heard, just adds to the appeal. Moravec enters and is all control and refinement; his precision and calculation reminds one of Michelangeli, but without the (transcendental) eccentricity. Interestingly, even with such an approach, Mr Moravec manages a bit more oomph than Richter, but he never bogs down the proceedings. The Beethoven cadenza is superbly rendered, the arpeggios exact, the revived and deliciously altered opening theme notably front and center, the more dashing passages exactly that – more dashing. The Academy of St Martin in the Fields rejoins the musical action to end on a strong note. The second movement proceeds largely like the Richter version – it’s basically more of what made the opening movement so good, though in the outer sections it’s slower. Direct and refreshing music making is the order of the movement. The third movement is rapid, vigorous, and amply dramatic, offering more of Mr Moravec’s superb artistry and more of Neville and his band’s wonderful accompaniment. All told, this is a superb reading, but it lacks that last little something that Richter and his cohorts manage to bring to the piece. Things are helped out by pleasant, not-too-bright, and surprisingly weighty sound. (This is a chamber orchestra, right?)
The next recording finds Neville Marriner again helming the Academy of St Martin in the Fields, but this time it’s almost a quarter of a century earlier (it’s from 1973), and the pianist is Alfred Brendel. I’m not a big Brendel fan, but I recently listened to a recording of the 22nd and 27th concertos with Chuck Mackerras leading the Scottish Chamber Orchestra, and I was extremely impressed. Mr Quirky is pleasantly unquirky, or at least he’s less quirky. The disc I got is from the mini-Mozart Edition, and also has the 21st concerto and the K457 sonata. I started the disc by listening to the sonata, much to my chagrin. Here is everything I hate about Brendel; the playing is simultaneously leaden, boring, and eccentric. It’s awful. The paired concerto is better, but not top-flight. So I began with mixed feelings. Initially, this was unwarranted. Marriner opens less darkly than with Moravec, but more propulsively. The leaner, lighter, indeed softer sound marries perfectly to Brendel’s lighter, nicely varied playing. He’s mostly quirk-free, with perhaps the odd accented note here or tweaked left-hand chord there. No biggie. But then the cadenza comes. Brendel uses his own. I’m not averse to pianists using their own cadenzas in general, but I am here. It opens with a rolling bass line recalling and earlier run, then it includes a long trill, and then it proceeds through a variety of allusions to various parts of the score with lots of uninteresting ornamentation, all with little (or little interesting) development. A composer Mr Brendel is not. Things improve somewhat in the second movement, with some lovely cello playing, and a heated middle section. The concluding section is nice, but Mr Brendel cannot resist tweaking a few arpeggios in an unwelcome way. The third movement opens swiftly and dramatically, but after about 2’30”, it goes off the rails. Odd phrasing and emphases from the pianist detract from the work, and the second cadenza from the mind of Brendel is worse than the first. Add garishness to the earlier criticisms, and there you have it. Marriner leads a tight ship throughout, and when he’s not altering the music to be more Brendel than Mozart, Al is actually pretty good. But his interventions kill what is otherwise a fine reading.
Next up is Guiomar Novaes in her 1950s recording with Hans Swarowsky and the Vienna Symphony Orchestra on Vox. Ms Novaes is new for me, the two Vox twofers I bought offering a nice cross-section of her artistry. Her Chopin and Schumann are both very fine indeed, but her Beethoven is weak, but all of these considerations fade to insignificance when compared to her Mozart. Her Mozart is nearly divine; that is, it’s nearly of Clara Haskil quality. Nearly. The work opens in a pretty straightforward manner, dramatic and swift, but neither too dark nor too driven. Novaes’ first entry is light, poised, and essentially poetic in character, offering flowing grace and tonal beauty. Like the angelic Ms Haskil, Novaes seems more comfortable and persuasive playing diminuendo rather than crescendo; her touch in softer passages is possessed of ethereal beauty and effortlessness while her louder passages can sound less wondrous. Her forte playing ain’t shabby, it just ain’t as sublime as her softer note spinning. Her sound is often of a gloriously fluid legato producing ravishing streams of music. Like Mr Brendel, she opts not to use Beethoven’s cadenzas, though I’m not sure if she use her own. In any event, the cadenza used in the first movement is decidedly better than what Brendel offers: it is brief, swift, with a briefly recapitulated main theme followed by rapid-fire trills that then seamlessly blend back into the orchestra’s return. Good stuff. The second movement is poised yet swift, and as a result, there is not as much contrast with the middle section. The third section of the movement is slower than the first, thereby offering some nice contrast, but basically all involved perform a straight shot through the movement with little muss ‘n’ fuss. That’s not say that the music making isn’t exceptional; quite the contrary, in fact. The third movement opens disarmingly softly. Each note by Ms Novaes is lovingly attended to, and the orchestra, while more forceful than before, never threatens to overpower the soloist. The second cadenza is similar in style to the first, and Novaes dispatches it quickly enough, and then the whole work comes to a more playful than normal conclusion. Some oddly italicized phrasing by the orchestra detracts a bit, but overall, this is an outstanding performance, fully comparable to Moravec, if not quite up to Richter’s standard.
The final recording in this mini-survey is Rudolf Firkusny’s 1990 Intercord recording with Ernst Bour. As I explained in an earlier thread, I was relatively disappointed with this recording, but I figured it should be reconsidered. It is relatively more successful in the context of a comparative review. The swift-ish opening blends drama and darkness nicely, and Firkusny’s playing is straightforward, elegant, and Apollonian, with hints of a bit more fire from time to time. The standard Beethoven cadenza is well played, in a musical journeyman sort of way. The second movement is cut from the same cloth; direct, unaffected, swift-ish playing from all keep the movement on course, and Firkusny’s nuanced playing offers some attractions I glossed over my first time through. The middle section of the movement is relatively fiery, and offers Firkusny playing in a tastefully urgent manner. The third movement in satisfyingly swift and strong, with a nice, dramatic thrust. The glassy, distant sound helps no one, but upon rehearing this recording, I’m prepared to say I underestimated it. It’s still not a great recording, but it offers enough to visit yet again.
As if to prove my contention that one can never hear too many versions of this masterpiece, listening to these five renditions only increased my appreciation – awe, really – of Mozart’s achievement. Of the five on offer, Richter goes straight to the top of the list with Clara Haskil and company. Robert Casadesus still reigns supreme, being just a hair better than even Richter and Haskil, but that’s it. Richter is remarkable. Of the remaining versions, all have something to offer, and only Brendel’s ultimately falls short of being a long-term contender. His quirkiness and cadenzas do him in. Otherwise, I can recommend all of the recordings in this latest survey. Now, what version to get next?
Sviatoslav Richter joins the pantheon of great D-minor interpreters. I thought I should just get it out of the way now. For whatever I write, it cannot suffice to adequately praise this recording. This is a wonderful reading. The piece opens slowly, darkly, and heavily – almost ponderously – with a rich sound from the orchestra. Richter’s entry is a thing of wonder: it is simultaneously dramatic and cautious, restrained. As he plays more notes, one can add attributes like clean, precise, articulate and possessed of a flawlessly measured staccato to the mix. Richter’s playing juxtaposes with the orchestras nicely. (That’s not to say the orchestra is sloppy, just that it’s less poised and restrained.) The Beethoven cadenza is essentially perfect; it is played as early Beethoven, with hints of earlier masters, and not the heaven-storming giant from the early years of the 19th Century. Wislocki ends the movement very strongly to cap off a peach of an opening movement. The second movement basically offers more of the same. Richter’s touch is remarkably light and delicate in the outer sections of the movement, and from a man who can hammer out Prokofiev’s War Sonatas with ferocity matched by few, and in the middle section his remarkable articulation offers unique glimpses into the music. Not surprisingly, the third movement continues on in the same fashion, with more sterling playing from the soloist and more dramatic playing from the Warsaw band. It’s a mesmerizing performance of pianistic grace ‘n’ taste coupled to old-time, big band theatrics. Superb early stereo sound from DG just adds to the substantial allure. A winner to be sure.
Next up is the venerable Ivan Moravec, in a 1997 Hanssler recording with the equally venerable Neville Marriner. The opening is a bit darker than I would have expected from Sir Neville, but, as always with this band, the playing is light on its feet, the band able to nimbly change direction instantly. A nicely accented sound in the strings, unique to all of the recordings I’ve heard, just adds to the appeal. Moravec enters and is all control and refinement; his precision and calculation reminds one of Michelangeli, but without the (transcendental) eccentricity. Interestingly, even with such an approach, Mr Moravec manages a bit more oomph than Richter, but he never bogs down the proceedings. The Beethoven cadenza is superbly rendered, the arpeggios exact, the revived and deliciously altered opening theme notably front and center, the more dashing passages exactly that – more dashing. The Academy of St Martin in the Fields rejoins the musical action to end on a strong note. The second movement proceeds largely like the Richter version – it’s basically more of what made the opening movement so good, though in the outer sections it’s slower. Direct and refreshing music making is the order of the movement. The third movement is rapid, vigorous, and amply dramatic, offering more of Mr Moravec’s superb artistry and more of Neville and his band’s wonderful accompaniment. All told, this is a superb reading, but it lacks that last little something that Richter and his cohorts manage to bring to the piece. Things are helped out by pleasant, not-too-bright, and surprisingly weighty sound. (This is a chamber orchestra, right?)
The next recording finds Neville Marriner again helming the Academy of St Martin in the Fields, but this time it’s almost a quarter of a century earlier (it’s from 1973), and the pianist is Alfred Brendel. I’m not a big Brendel fan, but I recently listened to a recording of the 22nd and 27th concertos with Chuck Mackerras leading the Scottish Chamber Orchestra, and I was extremely impressed. Mr Quirky is pleasantly unquirky, or at least he’s less quirky. The disc I got is from the mini-Mozart Edition, and also has the 21st concerto and the K457 sonata. I started the disc by listening to the sonata, much to my chagrin. Here is everything I hate about Brendel; the playing is simultaneously leaden, boring, and eccentric. It’s awful. The paired concerto is better, but not top-flight. So I began with mixed feelings. Initially, this was unwarranted. Marriner opens less darkly than with Moravec, but more propulsively. The leaner, lighter, indeed softer sound marries perfectly to Brendel’s lighter, nicely varied playing. He’s mostly quirk-free, with perhaps the odd accented note here or tweaked left-hand chord there. No biggie. But then the cadenza comes. Brendel uses his own. I’m not averse to pianists using their own cadenzas in general, but I am here. It opens with a rolling bass line recalling and earlier run, then it includes a long trill, and then it proceeds through a variety of allusions to various parts of the score with lots of uninteresting ornamentation, all with little (or little interesting) development. A composer Mr Brendel is not. Things improve somewhat in the second movement, with some lovely cello playing, and a heated middle section. The concluding section is nice, but Mr Brendel cannot resist tweaking a few arpeggios in an unwelcome way. The third movement opens swiftly and dramatically, but after about 2’30”, it goes off the rails. Odd phrasing and emphases from the pianist detract from the work, and the second cadenza from the mind of Brendel is worse than the first. Add garishness to the earlier criticisms, and there you have it. Marriner leads a tight ship throughout, and when he’s not altering the music to be more Brendel than Mozart, Al is actually pretty good. But his interventions kill what is otherwise a fine reading.
Next up is Guiomar Novaes in her 1950s recording with Hans Swarowsky and the Vienna Symphony Orchestra on Vox. Ms Novaes is new for me, the two Vox twofers I bought offering a nice cross-section of her artistry. Her Chopin and Schumann are both very fine indeed, but her Beethoven is weak, but all of these considerations fade to insignificance when compared to her Mozart. Her Mozart is nearly divine; that is, it’s nearly of Clara Haskil quality. Nearly. The work opens in a pretty straightforward manner, dramatic and swift, but neither too dark nor too driven. Novaes’ first entry is light, poised, and essentially poetic in character, offering flowing grace and tonal beauty. Like the angelic Ms Haskil, Novaes seems more comfortable and persuasive playing diminuendo rather than crescendo; her touch in softer passages is possessed of ethereal beauty and effortlessness while her louder passages can sound less wondrous. Her forte playing ain’t shabby, it just ain’t as sublime as her softer note spinning. Her sound is often of a gloriously fluid legato producing ravishing streams of music. Like Mr Brendel, she opts not to use Beethoven’s cadenzas, though I’m not sure if she use her own. In any event, the cadenza used in the first movement is decidedly better than what Brendel offers: it is brief, swift, with a briefly recapitulated main theme followed by rapid-fire trills that then seamlessly blend back into the orchestra’s return. Good stuff. The second movement is poised yet swift, and as a result, there is not as much contrast with the middle section. The third section of the movement is slower than the first, thereby offering some nice contrast, but basically all involved perform a straight shot through the movement with little muss ‘n’ fuss. That’s not say that the music making isn’t exceptional; quite the contrary, in fact. The third movement opens disarmingly softly. Each note by Ms Novaes is lovingly attended to, and the orchestra, while more forceful than before, never threatens to overpower the soloist. The second cadenza is similar in style to the first, and Novaes dispatches it quickly enough, and then the whole work comes to a more playful than normal conclusion. Some oddly italicized phrasing by the orchestra detracts a bit, but overall, this is an outstanding performance, fully comparable to Moravec, if not quite up to Richter’s standard.
The final recording in this mini-survey is Rudolf Firkusny’s 1990 Intercord recording with Ernst Bour. As I explained in an earlier thread, I was relatively disappointed with this recording, but I figured it should be reconsidered. It is relatively more successful in the context of a comparative review. The swift-ish opening blends drama and darkness nicely, and Firkusny’s playing is straightforward, elegant, and Apollonian, with hints of a bit more fire from time to time. The standard Beethoven cadenza is well played, in a musical journeyman sort of way. The second movement is cut from the same cloth; direct, unaffected, swift-ish playing from all keep the movement on course, and Firkusny’s nuanced playing offers some attractions I glossed over my first time through. The middle section of the movement is relatively fiery, and offers Firkusny playing in a tastefully urgent manner. The third movement in satisfyingly swift and strong, with a nice, dramatic thrust. The glassy, distant sound helps no one, but upon rehearing this recording, I’m prepared to say I underestimated it. It’s still not a great recording, but it offers enough to visit yet again.
As if to prove my contention that one can never hear too many versions of this masterpiece, listening to these five renditions only increased my appreciation – awe, really – of Mozart’s achievement. Of the five on offer, Richter goes straight to the top of the list with Clara Haskil and company. Robert Casadesus still reigns supreme, being just a hair better than even Richter and Haskil, but that’s it. Richter is remarkable. Of the remaining versions, all have something to offer, and only Brendel’s ultimately falls short of being a long-term contender. His quirkiness and cadenzas do him in. Otherwise, I can recommend all of the recordings in this latest survey. Now, what version to get next?