It is one of the myths
surrounding Furtwängler that he
conducted no new music. In the five
years immediately preceding this performance
of Prokofiev’s Fifth Piano Concerto,
Furtwängler gave premieres of Bartók’s
First Piano Concerto (with the composer
as soloist, and coupled with Nielsen’s
Fifth Symphony) and Schoenberg’s Variations
for Orchestra; in the immediate years
after the Prokofiev Furtwängler
gave the premieres of Honegger’s Third
Symphony and Hindemith’s Mathis der
Maler. Throughout the 1920s he had
given at least one ‘local’ premiere
of a Mahler symphony – and often programmed
that composer’s First, Second and Third
symphonies. It may hardly seem eclectic
by today’s standards – or even comparable
to the Klemperer premieres of the time
– but it is nevertheless an important
body of premieres we, a record-driven
society, easily overlook.
There have been a number
of 1930s Furtwängler recordings
that have made their way onto disc,
but none as special as this performance.
Authenticity issues aside – provenance
is everything when assigning Furtwängler
recordings legitimacy – there are clear
musical indications that this disc is
what it claims to be. We are fortunate
to have recordings made by Prokofiev
of his own music and the style of playing
on this new disc is very much ‘of the
time’. Rubato is minimal, for example,
and where it does occur is distinctly
non-interventionist. Prokofiev’s percussive
style of playing (especially audible
in this rather brittle work) remains
quite unique – but what also suggests
that this is the composer playing
is the way that he draws keyboard colour
out so convincingly (Prokofiev was a
mercurial painter of tone) and the near-perfect
attention to phrasing and dynamics.
It is particularly the latter that suggests
the composer is at the keyboard.
Prokofiev is, of course,
technically superb – there is every
hint that he was musically prepared
for this premiere. The stratospheric
keyboard effects glitter like spangles
and there is a hectic propulsiveness
to the keyboard playing throughout the
final movement that electrifies. There
is emotion also – albeit rather more
restrained than we would be used to
today – in the Larghetto. Prokofiev
catches well the disparate moods of
the work – though one hankers for a
slightly less anodyne temperament. The
Berlin Philharmonic are sympathetic
– if by no means perfect - accompanists
and Furtwängler himself – as he
always was with soloists – is careful
with the dynamic reach of the orchestration.
Prokofiev never featured
in Furtwängler’s discography –
or his concerts (except this one) –
but he was often a single composer or
single work conductor (for example,
he only ever once performed Verdi’s
Requiem). If that suggests a lack of
sympathy with both work and composer
– as some have suggested – that really
doesn’t seem to be the case here. Furtwängler
performances were never dull experiences
and if there might be some degree of
reticence in his conducting of the concerto
that surely comes with unfamiliarity
rather than any lack of sympathy with
the music itself. As one would expect
of a conductor who was also a composer
Furtwängler’s dedication to the
score is absolute.
The recording was made
live in Berlin and that brings with
it some problems. Firstly, the recorded
piano sound is very forward – almost
as if microphones were sat on the instrument.
This compresses the orchestral sound
considerably (at times the BPO seem
almost to be no louder than a whisper);
an added effect is the emphasis on the
percussiveness of Prokofiev’s tone.
Secondly, there is considerable hiss
from the original shellacs – and in
the Larghetto a very audible break in
the sound as it splinters at 5’02. There
has been very little attempt at re-mastering
the sound and as such the performance
requires considerable tolerance. The
only corroboration of the source is
that it comes from the state archives
– no more information is given.
At just over 25 minutes
the disc is short measure – but nothing
could really be placed beside it (it
is perhaps a little unfortunate, however,
that we don’t even have a fragment of
one of the other works on the programme,
Hindemith as soloist in Harold en
Italie). Nevertheless, it remains
an important issue – and an indispensable
one for Furtwängler and Prokofiev
disciples.
Marc Bridle
Serge Prokofiev (piano), Berliner Philharmoniker,
Wilhelm Furtwängler 