On the cover of this
latest Red Seal twofer – I don’t much
like using that word but I can’t really
call this a double album any more –
Martha Argerich takes top billing, rightly,
to Ivry Gitlis, whose name is in smaller
type underneath hers. Hence I’ve reproduced
the two in the header of this review.
But violinist manqué though I
may be, how I wish I hadn’t had to.
Argerich likes to work
with like-minded players – iconoclasts,
individualists, free spirits and romantic
expressivists, call them what you will.
In this respect she has recorded with
a violinist such as Ruggiero Ricci and
cellist Mischa Maisky, both string players
who can, on occasion, decidedly upset
the horses. So much for them, but with
Gitlis in these 1977 recordings I’m
afraid we hit a brick wall. Of course
I should preface these few remarks –
I don’t want to upset the balance of
the review – by saying that many will
relish the chance to hear these 25-year-old
performances of the Franck and Debussy
Sonatas. Gitlis is an unbridled player
whose Bartók, Bruch and Sibelius
are connoisseur recordings (hear his
Vox set for those). When I last heard
him at the Wigmore Hall he had the Old
World sensitivity to let his young pianist
play some solos of her own – an unusual
Old School gesture not much practised
these days and all the more welcome
for it. He played with considerable
reserves of technique and style on that
occasion. Here I’m afraid we have the
most exhausting performance of the Franck
I have ever heard. The vibrato is clotted
and incessant, the romanticised gestures
unremitting, highly personalised to
the point of caricature, the hushed
withdrawals of tone unconvincing and
the rubato as predictable as a betting
scandal on the racecourse. The whole
espressivo intent is utterly misconceived,
the tonal colour changes blatant and
imposed. If the Franck Sonata was a
turkey its neck would have been well
and truly wrung after the first ten
bars. Listen to Dubois/Maas or to Grumiaux/Hajdu.
The Debussy, alas, is not much better.
It is overwrought and full of the kind
of caprice and melodrama that should
be kept under check; gestures are too
intense and massive, accents too heavy,
the phrasing bordering on the gauche
- the lavish tonal resources that Gitlis
so effortlessly deploys are marvellous
violinistically but ruinous musically.
As for Argerich I am deeply impressed
by her composure and understanding musicality;
she is dignified and supportive without
compromising her independence. This
is especially true of the Franck, which
is, in relative terms, technically easy
for the violinist but on occasion crippling
for the pianist. If reviews were a fair
reflection of the players’ hard work
then equal billing should be given to
both musicians in this sonata and not
lavished just on the fiddle player.
It’s remarkable how seldom she follows
him to the brink.
Her Schumann is often
compelling but occasionally debatable.
Her tone is unquestionably consistent
in its beauty in the Fantasie (the occasional
moments of hardening are a consequence
of the recording). Yet for all the lavish
beauty and the sensitivity, aren’t one
or two of the agogics too obvious; doesn’t
the movement in the end fail to be consequential?
There are many impulsive and tremendously
attractive moments – but perhaps, to
me at least, that is the abiding problem:
sectionality. The second movement is
technically eloquent and emotively powerfully
convincing. However, when it comes to
the finale, climaxes are slightly fudged,
for all Argerich’s power and sensitivity.
Of the Fantasiestücke, Aufschwung
is very breathless and fast, Fabel
high-spirited and truly beautiful,
Traumes-wirren a little quirky
and Ende vom Lied noble without
becoming arch. The recordings date from
1976 and sound attractive without being
quite first class.
The most recent entrants
are the two 1980 concerto performances
she made, as director/pianist, with
the London Sinfonietta. Of the two it’s
the Haydn that is the more immediately
appealing, not that the Beethoven is
disappointing, with its lissom drive,
rhythmic verve and incision in the outer
movements and a penetrating stillness
and beauty of tone in the slow movement
with its superbly realised cadenza.
Given the problematic
nature of some of the performances some
care should be taken over this set of
two discs. The remastering is unobtrusive
but can’t convert a decent recording
acoustic (the Schumann, say) into a
great one.
Jonathan Woolf
Martha Argerich (piano) 
