AVAILABILITY 
          www.arbiter.com 
        
A mix of live and commercial recordings the main focus 
          of curiosity, I think, will be the (admittedly truncated) Brahms Concerto. 
          The first two movements have been preserved from a passionate performance 
          given in July 1944 and the tapes had lain in a radio archive in the 
          then East Germany. Elsewhere the Capriccio derives from a Seattle, Washington 
          recital given a scant few months before Gieseking’s death in 1956 and 
          the F minor Sonata dates from 1948 and the source is not disclosed. 
          The Intermezzi are long established – if perhaps less well known – Gieseking 
          benchmarks and the advantage of this reissue is that Arbiter have utilised 
          some of the pianist’s own vinyl test pressings of the 1939 New York 
          discs. 
        
 
        
The Concerto is a strong, powerful and intensely communicative 
          performance liberally littered with a flurry of dropped notes. It opens 
          in agitated style – dynamically and rhythmically – and soon takes on 
          a visceral incision and sense of vertical drama. There are myriad little 
          revealing details in the left hand for example and even if Gieseking’s 
          right hand runs are smudged and notes elided or slid over there is still 
          a sense of the combustible importance of the music, the fact that it 
          becomes vested with dramatic meaning. The string portamenti that Heger 
          encourages at the start of the second movement Allegro appassionato 
          – and a strongly bulging collective vibrato not even then encountered 
          often – mark out more specifics of the performance’s intensity. Again 
          Gieseking, who sounds on utterly, indeed quiveringly high-strung form, 
          drops notes aplenty as he goes (this is not a performance for the admirer 
          of note perfect renditions). But there is profound characterisation 
          as well and the string sonorities grow rich in leonine strength. It’s 
          true that Gieseking speeds up alarmingly - but there is a decisive, 
          powerful conclusion. Whatever the cause might have been this is a fascinatingly 
          engaged document. 
        
 
        
The Sonata was recorded in September 1948 and is a 
          strong, quick, again digitally imperfect performance, but this time 
          considerably less satisfying. The opening movement is very emphatic, 
          with numerous dropped notes (and very occasional overload in the recording) 
          and by the crest of the movement and coda the playing is really only 
          approximate at best. The slow movement is much better, its narrative 
          suggested with affectionate lyricism and depth but the Scherzo is inclined 
          to be rather gruff (but with a good central section). In the concluding 
          Allegro moderato ma rubato, he displays considerable weight and wit 
          and some marvellous rhythm and even if the climax is fudged one can 
          sense what an idealised Sonata performance could be – because for all 
          its manifold imperfections this is an exceptionally expressive performance. 
          I admired the 1939 Intermezzi very much. The flowing delicacy of the 
          B flat, Op. 76 No. 4, is notable as is the deeply powerful sense of 
          incipient tragedy generated in the E flat minor, Op. 118 No. 6, perhaps 
          the best example of Gieseking’s way with these pieces. 
        
 
        
The transfers have been carried out with real skill 
          and the notes usefully quote some of Gieseking’s own thoughts on interpretation. 
          That he could be fiery and dramatic we have long known (his live Rachmaninov 
          Concerto performances have long since startled for their remarkable, 
          and to some unexpected, power) and this Brahms Concerto confirms it 
          even more strikingly. 
        
 
        
Jonathan Woolf