When I began my listening
to the Concertos the only Kempff cycle
available, naturally enough, was the
stereo Leitner. But I always had a hankering
to hear the van Kempen. There was something
about Kempff’s inimitable lightness
that fascinated me and I wondered whether
the Berlin mono recordings could intrigue,
excite and move me as much as the later
traversal. The answer is yes, yes and
yes.
Firstly a word about
the 1953 recordings. There is tape hiss,
residual but evident. But to compensate
the sound is very much forward, very
square-on, and this refers as much to
things such as the trenchant wind chording
as it does to the solo spectrum. It’s
certainly not a warm sound exactly,
there’s nothing enveloping or cozy about
it; in fact in places it’s more than
a touch brittle. There are moments when
the strings suffer from an endemic swimmy-ness
as well which leads to a lack of real
focus and bloom.
Against Kempff and
van Kempen’s musicianship of course
this is pretty much irrelevant, though
in fairness to prospective purchasers
it should be noted. As for their interpretation
one can spend hours over the balance
of power between the mono and stereo
Kempff cycles. Better, perhaps, to allow
oneself the luxurious position of being
able to indulge oneself in both, if
one can. Otherwise one finds that in
the early concertos Kempff strides with
Haydnesque gallantry in the First, his
brio both bracing and affectionate.
The warmth and delicacy of his slow
movement is both natural and unaffected,
whilst the energy and dynamism of the
finale are always controlled by his
appropriate touch. The Second Concerto
is stylish and gracious, its slow movement
emerging beautifully cushioned and relaxed,
lyricism fusing with delicacy. Rhythmic
pointing informs the finale – that and
a puckish, smiling wit, insouciant and
alive.
The Third Concerto
is beautifully coloured and weighted.
Ornaments are crystalline, the orchestral
response full of solicitude and alternating
grandeur. In the finale we find Kempff
refusing to push the tempo. The Fourth
is stoic and forward moving; there’s
something noble about his refusal to
linger, though he never phrases at all
breathlessly. Architectural proprieties
are always observed and the sound world
is consonant, not outsize. Dynamics
are related, not disproportionate in
the slow movement. As for the finale
there is exquisite lightness, delicious
turning of ornaments and a buoyant rhythmic
sense.
The Emperor
is almost as commanding as the stereo
remake though obviously rather less
well recorded. Perhaps, if anything,
the stereo performance has an edge in
terms of technical address but the earlier
traversal’s treble delicacy and limpidity
are remarkable in themselves. Maybe
the recording accentuates a certain
glassiness of string tone but the playing
itself is full of vivid sensitivity
and corporate understanding. Sometimes
in the finale Kempff’s runs teeter on
the edge of audibility so delicious
is his sense of dynamics, so palpable
his playful wit. To bring up the final
disc to respectable timing we have the
two Op.51 Rondos in energizing performances
recorded a coupe of months before the
concerto cycle.
An outstanding cycle,
then, graced with glorious pianism and
a conductor who moulds the orchestral
strands with perfect judgement and awareness.
The mono sound may deter some from acquainting
themselves with this set, preferring
to rest with the stereo. That’s understandable
if you have to settle on just the one.
But for life affirming humanity this
set takes some beating.
Jonathan Woolf
Wilhelm Kempff (piano) 
