After 
                  45 minutes of mostly barnstorming virtuosity many another pianist 
                  would have added fifteen and gone home, but no, this is just 
                  the first half of Ginzburg’s last recital in the Grand Hall 
                  of the Moscow Conservatoire. The second half, with works by 
                  Prokofiev, Scriabin, Gershwin, Liszt and Chopin, has also been 
                  issued and I shall comment on it in due course.
                I 
                  recently wrote about a recording of Bach organ works transcribed 
                  by Liszt and played by Joyce Hatto; I noted the essentially 
                  non-interventionist transcriptions and the pianist’s evident 
                  feeling for Bach, who emerged as the real protagonist. Here, 
                  for better or worse, is the romantic way, with flurries of notes, 
                  cascading octaves and massive textures. Ginzburg treats these 
                  works as if they are real romantic works, as opposed to romantic 
                  transcriptions of baroque works, with generous surges of emotion 
                  and a rhapsodic freedom. Best, perhaps, are the two gentle pieces 
                  – the Siciliano and the Chorale-Prelude – which benefit from 
                  the singing beauty of Ginzburg’s tone and that art of colouring 
                  an inner texture which was so characteristic of the golden age 
                  of pianism. There is a great deal of rubato (the Chorale-Prelude 
                  all but stops round about the middle) but these pieces can just 
                  about survive being treated as Chopin Nocturnes. No transcriber 
                  is named for the D major Prelude and Fugue which is perhaps 
                  the most bloated of all – Ginzburg’s own arrangement perhaps? 
                  
                As 
                  for the others, obviously our appreciation is hampered by the 
                  limited (but serviceable) recording of what sounds like a poor 
                  piano badly in need of tuning. Some of the bigger textures emerge 
                  messily and I do wonder if Ginzburg’s technique was very slightly 
                  declining since the remarkable 1949 performances of the Liszt 
                  Concertos that I also commented on in this series. But it is 
                  a comparison with Busoni’s pupil Egon Petri in the Chaconne 
                  (available from Naxos on a compilation of Busoni and his pupils) 
                  which shows the real trouble with these interpretations. Petri’s 
                  conception is altogether tauter, and he makes each new variation 
                  emerge from the previous one while Ginzburg’s more wayward performance 
                  becomes a series of episodes. The Toccata and Fugue works surprisingly 
                  well, on the other hand.
                Serious 
                  collectors of great pianists will need to get everything by 
                  Ginzburg that is made available; for others, I would say that 
                  the best of Ginzburg is elsewhere, and I repeat my high opinion 
                  of the disc containing the Liszt Concertos.
                Christopher 
                  Howell