- Great Pianists of the 20th Century Vol.35 -
Emil Gilels (1916-1985) Vol II
Igor STRAVINSKY (1882-1971) 3 Movements from Petrouchka
Nicolai MEDTNER (1880-1951) Sonata Reminiscenza
Sergei PROKOFIEV (1891-1953) Sonata Nos.3 & 8. Visions Fugitives (excerpts). "March" from The Love of 3 Oranges
Franz LISZT (1811-1886) Fantasia on 2 themes from Le Nozze di Figaro (arr. Busoni). Hungarian Rhapsody No.9. Valse oubliee No.1. Spanish RhapsodyPyotr TCHAIKOVSKY (1840-1893) Piano Concerto No.2 in G*
Johann Sebastian BACH (1685-1750) Prelude in B minor (arr. Alexander Siloti)
*New Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by Lorin MaazelPHILIPS Classics 456 796-2
2 discs [79:28 + 78:14] budget-price
Recorded various venues between 1935 and December 1977by Johnathan Bushrod
Emil Gilels was born in 1916, a stocky, red-haired virtuoso of an order that only Russia seems able to produce. He remained a Soviet citizen, but unlike his contemporary Richter, in whose shadow he inevitably found himself (and that is still the case today) his appearances outside of the Eastern Bloc do not seem to have been unduly rationed, and from the 1950s onwards Gilels managed to build on his stunning American debut and appear regularly in the West until his premature death in 1985.
The authorities used Gilels as a cultural ambassador, and Western audiences lapped it up. Concerts sold out quickly, and before long his reputation was such that he was getting invitations to play with the Berlin and Vienna orchestras. The concert appearances were often accompanied by recording sessions, initially with the top American orchestras, then solo piano repertory in the 1970s with DG, and from 1957 until his final concerts in Britain, a long running partnership with the BBC, both 'live' and in the studio.
Many of those recordings on DG and RCA are classics, but Gilels recorded a lot, and there is plenty of wonderful stuff, particularly from Russian sources, that does not currently enjoy the circulation it merits. Still, we have quite a lot to be going on with.
This genius of the keyboard (and I don't use the term lightly) was so much more than a fiery virtuoso; fire and virtuosity were there all right, but also a wide dynamic range, an instinctive feeling for structure and colour, explosive energy, seriousness of purpose, integrity (to the spirit if not always to the letter of the score) and a sense of fun. Although he was often pictured showing the stern determination expected of a great Soviet artist, this was but a small part of the story.
Anyone who knows Gilels from later recordings, primarily of Beethoven sonatas, will be surprised but also delighted at this collection. His Beethoven was often exciting, full of colour and imagination, and despatched with amazing technical facility, but also considered and probing with good taste, revealing an artist of unflappable seriousness and a fair amount of classical restraint - and you could not imagine him playing a wrong note. Although of course he had them in abundance, sparkle, flair and wit would not be the first words you would connect with Gilels' playing; he seemed to eschew such passing joys in pursuit of a longer term, more fulfilling spiritual goal.
But on these discs, from the opening "Russian Dance" of Stravinsky's 15-minute distillation of Petrouchka, heard in a Czech Radio performance from 1973, a different Gilels emerges. The familiar delicacy of touch and feeling for colour and dynamics (try the first half a minute or so of track 2 on the first disc to see what I mean) the same transparency of texture are all in evidence, but this is clearly a man in touch with the legacy of Liszt, but without any of the attendant limelight-seeking that so often gives virtuosos a bad name.
There are textural and rhythmical liberties, yet Gilels is true to the spirit of the score, recreating the vivid characterisation of Stravinsky's puppet ballet, theatrical, witty and spontaneous - the performance of a consummate showman. It is stunningly played, but with no showing off, all the pianist's efforts being used to produce a dazzling and fun piece of music. He is so immersed in conjuring this colourful, theatrical world that there are times when the written notes take a back seat to his flights of fancy; in some hands this would appear a wilful indulgence, but here it is all part of an inspired act of recreation. Some out of tune keys in the closing "Shrovetide Fair" sequence add to the fun, the pianist characteristically unfazed.
In the Eighth Sonata by Prokofiev, although Richter (left) in his famous DG recording (423 573-2) is perhaps more mindful of the composer's Schubertian starting point for the slow movement, Gilels is equally convincing, and his surging, irresistible momentum in the central episode of the first movement and the quixotic finale are surely what the composer dreamed of, as are the miniature Visions Fugitives, also recorded in 1974.
The Sonata gets a great performance that brings out all the mystery, despair and high spirits in this large-scale work written near the end of the Second World War. The three movements are played with consummate mastery of structure as well as capturing the elusive emotional content. A generous selection also includes a suitably stirring reading of the same composer's underrated Ninth Sonata and an exciting if somewhat over the top encore in the March from The Love of Three Oranges. The Visions Fugitives, tiny pieces that call to mind variously Shostakovich, Rachmaninov, Webern and even Poulenc, receive performances that evoke the same artist's famous recording of Grieg's Lyric Pieces (DG Originals 449 721-2), and are if anything even better. Like the B-flat sonata, the Visions bring us close to the performer we know from later work, with a delicate touch and vibrant colours at his disposal.
The second disc starts in different territory: the teenage Gilels in Busoni's arrangement for piano solo of one of Liszt's many opera paraphrases. He is likened in the notes to Horowitz, and that gives you some impression of the nature of his playing at this stage of his career, such is the lightning attack and variety and unpredictability of colour; it sounds like he is creating on the spur of the moment, taking a couple of themes at random and expounding on them in the most thrillingly spontaneous fashion.
The Liszt from 16 years later is no less exciting, but in this Hungarian Rhapsody he does appear technically fallible at times, with a few moments of rhythmic insecurity and just the occasional splashy chord. But the producers, thankfully, left it as it stands - wrong notes sometimes matter, but not here. Gilels always retained a natural and seemingly instinctive grasp of structure, even in music where structure does not seem to have any relevance. His virtuosity is so fluent that long passages, even whole movements, are taken in one gesture. So what if a few notes fall by the wayside - to disrupt the momentum would be to destroy the performance.
The ('live') recording of the Spanish Rhapsody is perhaps the ultimate example of this, Gilels showering his audience with a cascade of wrong notes at times, but it hardly matters as this is another very exciting recording, one that has elicited a fair amount of praise on previous issues. Just as you can hear the twang of a cimbalom in the Hungarian Rhapsody, the inflection of Liszt's Spanish melodies is full of colour, particularly in the light textures of the central dance episode.
Gilels made a fine recording of Tchaikovsky's First Piano Concerto with Fritz Reiner which you would have expected to be first on the list of concerto recordings for this project, but the Second Concerto chosen here is just as good. It is performed in the version standard at the time, the one cut heavily by the pianist Alexander Siloti, but what is left shows us what Gilels can do. The conductor is Lorin Maazel, by no means a favourite of mine, but with his tremendous ability to articulate full textures at high speed he is the ideal partner for Gilels, and sound and phrasing are highly idiomatic. Gilels is slightly hard of tone and gives a powerful, sweeping rendition, the many passages of rapidly cascading scales and octaves met head on with no loss either of momentum or feeling. Undaunted by challenges to technique and stamina, the pianist has no problems delivering what this concerto demands: a performance of true grandeur and poetry on an epic scale, with unstoppable rhythmic drive and energy throughout its 36 minutes.
This selection is made up mainly of virtuoso repertoire from the middle of Gilels' career, but there are two restrained and poetic readings from this time that along with the Prokofiev Eighth Sonata anticipate his later incarnation as a sage-like elder statesman of the early CD era. The Medtner Sonata Reminiscenza finds him displaying great delicacy of touch, retaining even in the softest dynamics a full range of colour and fine articulation, the most delicate wisps of melody finely traced into a pattern not unlike some of Scriabin's early sonatas. There is a hint of Rachmaninov as well, but this is an individual work that should be better known, and receives the strongest possible advocacy here.
The set closes with a short Bach prelude, a brief encore, but it embodies so many of the attributes that so distinguish the other repertoire on this selection. The subtle rubato does not detract from the performance's distant serenity, offering a further reminder that there was more to this artist than sheer power and virtuosity.
A few years ago I bought a second-hand LP of Gilels playing Prokofiev, having heard his Beethoven and Brahms but little else. That record was a revelation for its breathtaking and idiomatic playing, and the discs under consideration here have had a similar effect. If you want to listen to thrilling virtuoso pianism that you can return to without getting tired of it, even among the issues in this series there is nothing better. The sound is good enough, even in the older recordings, so rush to your nearest record shop at the earliest opportunity.
In Singapore, the Great Pianists series can be easily found or ordered from Sing Discs (Raffles City), Tower (Pacific Plaza and Suntec City), Borders (Wheelock Place) or HMV (The Heeren).
Jonathan Bushrod is the man with the tea (because it rhymes with 'Jonny B' and he always seems to end up making the tea).
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587: 27.10.1999 ©Jonathan Bushrod
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