Jesper Buhl has made Oleg Marshev his mission. There 
          are already many Marshev volumes in the Danacord lists. Marshev is bright 
          and eager and his piano is recorded with real 'oomph'. Here he is partnered 
          by the Helsingborg orchestra who have superb woodwind and brass complements. 
          If their violins sound thin-toned this matches Shostakovich's stripped 
          down approach. In the First Concerto there are the marks of Prokofiev's 
          Classical, of Mozart and of neo-classicism. Jan Karlsson, the 
          orchestra's first trumpet does not disappoint and is easily equal to 
          Vacchiano in the Previn version (Sony). The Mickey Mouse power and silent 
          film gymnastics of the last three minutes only serve to underline the 
          gawping and possibly malevolent smile of this music. 
        
 
        
The Second Concerto is up against Dmitriev (CFP), Bernstein 
          (superb but now sounding rather raw) and Ortiz. Marshev's piano is sound-located 
          forward. The engineering luminously captures the dynamic gradations 
          of Marshev’s playing. For those who do not know, the Second Concerto 
          is a more lyrically appealing work than the First. It is populist par 
          excellence. Only once in the First does the composer feint towards popular 
          taste and then in a Khachaturian-like gesture in the Moderato. 
          At the end of the first movement, at 7.18, Shostakovich produces a syncopated 
          hammering that reminds me of a similar moment in Walton's Sinfonia 
          Concertante from twenty years previously. The following andante 
          is played for total enchantment - a combination of the Moonlight, 
          The Emperor (middle movement) and Rachmaninov 2 - dewdrop romance 
          distilled. While Marshev does not offer the febrile energy we find in 
          the Bernstein version he is not short on impact and verve and turns 
          in a wonderfully well recorded and performed account. 
        
 
        
The Preludes are short and lovingly rounded and spun. 
          They traverse quite a landscape: Debussy, Prokofiev's sarcasm, troika-like 
          jollity, tonally challenged forays (tr 14), Bachian two-steps, Medtnerian 
          serenades, undertakers' soliloquies (tr 21), Mozartian games, sinister 
          little polkas. MusicWeb’s own Paul Serotsky contributes the liner notes 
          and suggests that these works might almost be part of the crib-sheet 
          of a silent cinema pianist. 
        
  Rob Barnett  
        
see also review by 
          Paul Serotsky