The Magic of Horowitz
Deutsche Grammophon, 2003.
Digipak. 2CD+DVD.
Liner notes by Thomas Frost, Edward Greenfield and
Vladimir Horowitz.
Contents:
CD 1 [71’32]:
[1] Schubert-Liszt: Valse-Caprice No. 6 (from Soirées de Vienne)
[2] Schubert-Liszt: Ständchen (from Schwanengesang)
[3] Liszt: Valse oubliée No. 1
[4] Chopin: Mazurka in A minor, Op. 17 No. 4
[5] Scriabin: Etude in D sharp minor, Op. 2 No. 1
[6] Scriabin: Etude in C sharp minor, Op. 8 No. 12
[7] Schubert: Impromptu in B
flat major, D 935 No. 3
[8] Schubert-Tausig: Military March D 733 No. 1
[9] Scarlatti: Sonata in E major, K. 135 (L. 224)
[10] Bach-Busoni: Choral Prelude “Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland”
[11] Rachmaninoff: Prelude in G major, Op. 32 No. 5
[12] Rachmaninoff: Prelude in G sharp minor, Op. 32 No. 12
[13] Liszt: Sonetto 104 del Petrarca (from Années de Pèlerinage, 2e année, Italie)
[14] Chopin: Mazurka in C sharp minor, Op. 30 No. 4
[15] Schumann: Träumerei (from Kinderszenen)
[16] Rachmaninoff: Polka de W. R.
CD 2 [71’01]:
Mozart:
Piano Concerto No. 23 in A major, K. 488
[1] Allegro (cadenza:
Ferruccio Busoni)
[2] Adagio
[3] Allegro assai
Orchestra
del Teatro alla Scala
Carlo
Maria Giulini
Schumann:
Kreisleriana Op. 16
[4] Auserst bewegt
[5] Sehr innig und nicht zu
rasch
[6] Sehr aufgeregt
[7] Sehr langsam
[8] Sehr lebahaft
[9] Sehr langsam
[10] Sehr rasch
[11] Schnell und spielend
[12] Studio chatter
[13] Mozart: Rondo in A minor, K. 511*
[14] Liszt-Horowitz: Ehemals (from Weihnachtsbaum, No. 10)*
[15] Schubert: Moment musical in F minor, D 780 No. 3*
*Previously unreleased!
DVD Video [50’14]:
Mozart:
Piano Concerto No. 23 in A major, K. 488
1. Allegro (cadenza:
Ferruccio Busoni)
2. Adagio
3. Allegro assai
Orchestra
del Teatro alla Scala
Carlo
Maria Giulini
[1] Arrival – preparing to
record (opening credits)
[2] Recording of the first
movement
[3] An impromptu press
conference
[4] Recording of the second
movement
[5] Conversation
[6] Playback
[7] Recording of the third
movement (part)
[8] Recording of the third
movement – retake (complete)
[9] Conversation (end
credits)
Recorded:
4/1985, Horowitz’s Home, New York
9-10/1985, RCA Studio A, New York
3/1986, New York
4/1986, Moscow Conservatory,
Live (CD 1: 11-16)
3/1987, Albanella Studios, Milan
6/1987, Grosse Musikhalle , Hamburg
6/1988, Grace Rainey
Auditorium, Metropolitan Museum of Art ,
New York
12/1988 & 1/1989: Horowitz’s
Home, New York
*Wrongly given in the booklet “1-8”!
**Wrongly given in the booklet “9-11”!
Some recordings are simply skipped in the booklet!
=========================================================
Magical playing indeed!
This handsome set presents the “greatest hits” of
Vladimir Horowitz from his Indian summer for Deutsche Grammophon (1985-89). All
of them demonstrate unique and compelling musical vision. Three of them had
never been released before. The bonus DVD is pure delight and not available
separately. The lavish booklet contains some rare photos and excellent liner
notes by people who know what they are writing about. But before going into some
detail about the contents, a few words about the all-important historical background.
The last years of Vladimir Horowitz are one of the
great fairy tales in modern music history – except that they actually happened.
In the early 1980s, Horowitz was going through the most severe depression in
his life. He was taking heavy medications and his playing was becoming
increasingly erratic, a mere shadow of his finest years. After the disastrous Tokyo Tokyo New
York
This collection of recordings from the
last five years of Vladimir Horowitz’s life (1985–89) presents the phenomenal
artist at the height of his musical maturity. That period, the most prolific
and possibly the happiest of his life, was also filled with drama, personal
triumphs and renewed world recognition. His accomplishments were astounding: at
the age of 82 Horowitz returned to his Russian homeland after a 61-year absence
to play recitals in Moscow and Leningrad – the Moscow recital was televised
live to Western Europe and the United States, later to the rest of the world; he
gave recitals to sold-out houses in New York, London, Berlin, Paris, Milan, Amsterdam,
Vienna and Hamburg; he made seven CDs that included his first recording of a
Mozart concerto as well as other pieces that he never committed to disc before;
he was featured in three television films; he received the Medal of Freedom
from President Reagan at the White House and his 23rd Grammy award
at Radio City in New York.
The variety and the quality of these late recordings
are extraordinary. Horowitz was not in the least content to repeat the old
repertoire in the old way. Whatever technical shortcomings he had in those
years, he turned them into artistic advantages. Some of the pieces he played
for decades reached their finest interpretations only in his last years. The
best example is Chopin’s famous Polonaise Op. 53 (unfortunately and unforgivably
not included here). Any late recording of this lovely piece (and there are one
studio and countless live takes) bears little resemblance to the early versions
(RCA, 1945; Columbia, 1971). In his twilight years, Horowitz slowed down and
added numerous new accents. The result is a virtually new and, for my part,
superior piece to his early recordings – if not indeed to what Chopin wrote
himself. On a smaller scale, you can compare the late interpretations of
Liszt’s Sonetto 104 del Petrarca and
Bach-Busoni’s Nun komm, der Heiden
Heiland with the ones Horowitz recorded in 1951 and 1947, respectively. The
recordings are as different as black and white. I am not saying black is better
than white or vice versa. I simply want to stress that Horowitz never grew
stale: he continued to develop until the end of his life.
Then there is the new repertoire. I have heard
Horowitz described as a “cowardly pianist” because he never strayed far from
the so-called “standard repertoire”. I would reverse this argument. I consider
cowardly pianists who deliberately keep out of this repertoire, constantly
“discovering” forgotten (usually rightly so) composers and works. This is an
elegant way to avoid the fierce competition in an overcrowded field and the
critical onslaught from superficial journalists ever so keen on comparisons
(the first evidence that a critical
faculty is missing). It never occurs to such pianists that there might be a
reason why the pieces they play have never become popular with the audience,
for example because they are perfectly mediocre stuff. That said, all his life Horowitz
played and recorded some rather obscure pieces. In his youth, back in the
1930s, he championed works like Chopin’s Polonaise-Fantaisie, Liszt’s Sonata in
B minor and Rachmaninoff’s Third Concerto, all of them repertoire staples today
– and all of them badly neglected back then. Later, in the 1940s, he played
(and even recorded) sonatas by Barber, Prokofiev and Kabalevsky, little known
then and forgotten today (except for Prokofiev, of course); still later, he did
his best to popularise Scriabin, Scarlatti and Clementi. This is hardly a
narrow repertoire.
Horowitz never stopped adding new pieces to his
discography (his last recording, made for Sony just a few days before his death
in November 1989, consisted entirely of such pieces). Three works in this set
(CD 1: 1, 2, 7) were completely new to him: he had not even played them in public, much
less recorded, before. It so happens that they are among his finest recordings.
The famous Ständchen is played with exquisite tenderness and superb command of the echo-like
effects. As usual, Horowitz invests even the most hackneyed piece with a new
life. The sixth Valse-Caprice, based
on Schubert but really Liszt’s composition, Horowitz loved so much that
he played it on every one of his recitals in the late 1980s. It is an
enchanting combination of bravura and sensuous charm. Finally, Schubert’s set
of variations (Impromptu D 935 No. 3) also featured regularly in his last recitals,
but there is no account of his having played it earlier in his career. (By the
way, Horowitz recorded altogether six of Schubert’s eight impromptus for
Columbia and DG between 1962 and 1985; only the first and the last, D 899 No. 3
and D 935 No. 4, did he never play or record.) Last but not least, Tausig’s
brilliant arrangement of Schubert’s Marche
Militaire (originally for four hands) he had played only twice in concert,
in 1932 and 1942, before he came to record it in 1985. Light stuff and sheer
fun, it is treated by Horowitz with his customary seriousness.
Actually, the three “new recordings” [CD 2: 13-15] wonderfully
illustrate the breadth of Horowitz’s repertoire. One of them is famous
(Schubert), one is woefully seldom played or recorded (Mozart), and one is
actually never played or recorded
(Liszt). Incidentally, Horowitz played only the Schubert in concert, and only
in his last years; the other two are absent from his concerto- and discography. So much for
Horowitz’s “cowardly repertoire”! Thomas Frost, who was the producer of nearly all recordings Horowitz
made not only for DG, but earlier (1962-73) for Columbia
The Mozart Rondo in A minor was recorded
during the several sessions in December 1988 and January 1989 that resulted in
the CD “Horowitz at Home.” At that time Horowitz chose not to include it in the
program in order to avoid a preponderance of Mozart. We have included some
studio chatter during which Horowitz derides with sarcastic humor the very slow
tempos at which this piece has been recorded by some of his contemporaries. The
Horowitz transcription of Liszt’s “Ehemals” (no. 10 from his Weihnachtsbaum) was recorded during
sound tests in New York Hamburg
Schubert’s Musical Moment has since been released as
part of Horowitz in Hamburg: The Last
Concert (2008). The other two pieces, so far as I know, have never been
released elsewhere.
The DVD contains recording sessions of the complete
Concerto, including a retake of the third movement. The latter is a fine piece
of theatre. Mr Frost stopped the recording in the beginning and asked Mr Horowitz
to play “not so Russian”. (Nice publicity stunt, Thomas!) In between there is,
as Mr Frost says, “some interesting, informative and entertaining documentary
material.” This includes an improvised press conference in which journalists
ask their usual nonsense (“Always the same questions”, snorts Wanda) and
Horowitz declares that for him Mozart is “number 1”. Volodya is charmingly
childish between takes. A lady tells him she likes his tie, whereupon he goes
and tells everybody that she likes his tie better than his playing. He seems
obliging enough, harmlessly repeating hackneyed stories (e.g. about his
frustrated ambitions as composer), but I can imagine how difficult it could
have been to handle the man in private, or even during recording sessions. Once
he seats himself at the piano, however, there is no more fooling around. He
might warm up his fingers with bits of pieces or improvise a bit, but in a few
minutes he is ready to record. In those autumnal years, the nervous tension that
made Horowitz tremble at the keyboard in his prime was gone, but there was the
same intense concentration and complete absorption in the music. The contrast
between the artist producing heavenly sounds and the old man chattering
nonsense is very effective. In short, this is a fantastic documentary
indispensable for Horowitz fans.
 |
| Volodya and Francois. |
The liner notes by Edward Greenfield and Vladimir
Horowitz are taken from the original CD releases of Horowitz plays Mozart (1987) and Horowitz at Home (1989), respectively. Mr Greenfield quotes the
pianist extensively and there is some repetition, but it's no big deal. Horowitz
has a number of uncommonly interesting things to say about performance practice
and musical appreciation. Those who still dismiss him as a brainless technician
should read his words. Then again, probably it would be like describing the
rainbow to a blind man. Make no mistake, Horowitz was not an intellectual. Like
all great artists, his response to
music was largely emotional and he built his interpretations on instinct and
intuition rather than on reflection and scholarship. But, I hasten to add, it
is totally wrong to infer from this that Horowitz, and other pianists from
his generation, did not think at all about the music he played. Far from it! He
was, for example, an avid reader of composers’ letters (especially Mozart’s)
and drew a great deal of inspiration from them. Let Volodya explain his
heretical ideas in his own words (repetition of things worth repeating is
deliberately preserved):
[Line notes by Vladimir Horowitz, edited
by Thomas Frost – complete:]
Classical, Romantic, Modern, Neo-Romantic!
These labels may be convenient for musicologists, but they have nothing to do
with composing or performing. In fact, they may be more of a hindrance than a
help in the education of young performers. All music is the expression of
feelings, and feelings do not change over the centuries. Style and form change,
but not the basic human emotions. Purists would have us believe that music from
the so-called Classical period should be performed with emotional restraint,
while so-called Romantic music should be played with emotional freedom. Such
advice has often resulted in exaggeration: overindulgent, uncontrolled performances
of Romantic music and dry, sterile, dull performances of Classical music.
As far as Mozart is concerned, we know
from his letters that he showed great concern for musical expression: he
continually criticized performers whose playing lacked freedom for their
“mechanical execution” and the absence of “taste and feeling”. As for
Beethoven, historical accounts describe his playing as very free and emotional
– the trademark of a Romantic.
All my life, ever since I was a young man,
I have considered music of all periods romantic. There is, of course, an
objective, intellectual component to music insofar as its formal structure is
concerned; but when it comes to performance, what is required is not
interpretation but a process of subjective re-creation.
The notation of a composer is a mere
skeleton that the performer must endow with flesh and blood, so that the music
comes to life and speaks to an audience. The belief that going back to an Urtext will ensure a convincing
performance is an illusion. An audience does not respond to intellectual
concepts, only to the communication of feelings.
A dictionary definition of “romantic”
usually includes the following: “Displaying or expressing love or strong
affection; ardent, passionate, fervent.” I cannot name a single great composer
of any period who did not possess these qualities. Isn’t, then, all music romantic? And shouldn’t the
performer listen to his heart rather than to intellectual concepts of how to
play Classical, Romantic or any other type of music?
Of course, mastery implies control – in
music as well as in life. But control that is creative does not limit or
restrain feelings or spontaneity. It is rather a setting of standards, limits
and boundaries in regard to taste, style and what is appropriate to each
composer. In order to become a truly re-creative performer, and not merely an
instrumental wizard, one needs three ingredients in equal measure: a trained,
disciplined mind, full of imagination; a free and giving heart; and a Gradus ad Parnassum command of
instrumental skill. Few musicians ever reach artistic heights with these three
ingredients evenly balanced. This is
what I have been striving for all my life.
[Liner notes by Thomas Frost:]
Spontaneity was a hallmark of any Horowitz
performance. He never played a piece exactly the same way and was proud of
that. “The score is not a Bible… Chopin never played his own pieces the same
way twice,” he liked to say. His quick, retentive and clear mind combined with a
superb musculature allowed him to indulge his aversion to repetitious
practicing. This had the great advantage of keeping his performances fresh. Once
he had a general concept of a piece, he rehearsed it primarily in his head,
keeping his fingers in shape by improvising and playing other pieces. Of
spontaneity he said: “One must have very clear intentions, a clear conception
of the spirit of the music and its large framework. The Germans call it Auffassung. And when you have that, you
can leave smaller details to the spur of the moment. Sometimes it is a question
of color. I know the color of each section, but the exact shade is better left
to the inspiration of the moment.”
[Liner notes by Edward Greenfield:]
Horowitz loved the music of Mozart all his
life, and one of his favorite pastimes was reading the composer’s letters. He
spoke enthusiastically about the rich body of information they contain: “I am
not interested in the speculation of others on the subject how to play Mozart –
only in what the composer himself had to say. We are very fortunate to have so
many wonderful and instructive letters, and the key to interpreting his music can
be found in them. One of the most important facts that comes to light is
Mozart’s emphasis on feeling and expression in music-making. He continually
criticized his contemporaries for mechanical, meaningless virtuosity and a lack
of feeling and sensitivity. We can see in his letters that he was a sensuous,
earthly man with a wide range of emotions. He expressed them all in his music, and
in that sense he was really a Romantic composer. To approach him as if he were
a pretty, rococo porcelain figurine on a pedestal is to rob his music of its
essential, universal character, its power to evoke joy as well as tears. Pablo
Casals once told me that Mozart should be played like Chopin and Chopin like
Mozart!”
There is nothing terribly original in these remarks.
But there is some pretty thought-provoking, even profound, stuff. How many
modern virtuosos read Mozart’s letters? Or play Mozart’s sonatas at all?
I have but two minor complaints, one about the presentation
and one about the selection. The booklet is simply tucked inside the digipak
without being fastened; it is apt to slip out. To be sure, it is entirely a
matter of personal taste which recordings represent Horowitz at his best. Still – do
we need Mozart’s concerto twice? You can compare, if you are so inclined, both
versions and determine how much of the recording sessions shown on the video
actually went into the audio recording. I would rather concentrate on the
music, and for this one copy is quite enough. In short, the DVD should have
been retained, but the audio version should have been exchanged for something
else, for example the lovely recording, made at the same time and place, of
Mozart’s Sonata KV 333. That aside, this is a perfect set.
 |
| Everybody seems to be having a great time - except the baby. |
The Magic of Horowitz is now some 12 years old, but used copies
are still available at very decent prices. Horowitz buffs and neophytes alike
are not likely to regret purchasing the set. A piece of advice to the latter
group: do not forget that the late Horowitz is only one of many. There are at
least three other Horowitzes through the years, conveniently separated by his
recording companies (EMI, RCA, Columbia/Sony; indeed, there are two Horowitzes for
RCA alone, one from the late 40s/early 50s and one from the late 70s/early 80s).
Each one of these four artists, with the possible exception of the first, has
his own pros and cons. Knowledge of only one or two Horowitzes, no matter how
intimate, is inevitably warped. When you have surveyed the whole of his life
and recorded legacy, there emerges a work of art, a genuine masterpiece. If
Volodya had written an autobiography, he might well have titled it What a Life!
