Though Claudio Abbado
has provided distinguished collaborations
(an Abbado accompaniment is always so
much more than just that) with a wide
range of pianists over the years, two
in particular go back to his very earliest
years, giving them the value of childhood
friendships which have grown and matured
with time. In the case of Maurizio Pollini
there is perhaps little cause for surprise
– they were the two great white hopes
of the Italian music establishment at
much the same time, and furthermore
share a liking for a coolly intellectual
approach, purified of romantic excess,
with textural and architectural clarity
high up on their agendas.
In the case of Martha
Argerich one might suppose that the
fiery impulsiveness, the sheer daring
of this fascinating pianist, surely
the greatest of her generation, might
leave Abbado gasping for breath, but
time and again they have shown that
their complimentary qualities rub sparks
off each other in exactly the right
way.
A good deal of "period
practice" seems to have entered
into Abbado’s Beethoven these days,
with brusque accents, swells on long-held
string notes and an absence of vibrato
in moments such as the introduction
to the Adagio of no.2. But, if at times
it crossed my mind that I might, listening
blind, have identified Harnoncourt as
the conductor, then I hope I would have
remembered in time that Harnoncourt’s
performances of these works with Aimard
take a very free view of tempi which
Abbado does not countenance, and furthermore,
Abbado’s sharp attacks are never ugly,
which Harnoncourt’s often are. And what
a wonderful vitality he obtains, for
instance, from the bubbling cello counterpoint
near the beginning of no.2.
Argerich does not,
I think, trouble herself with "period
practice" considerations and her
extreme vitality (which does not mean
she is actually so very fast)
may remind us of Rudolf Serkin who,
among the great pianists of the past,
was the one who sought to convince us
of the value of no. 2 (of which the
composer himself was in some doubt)
by simply galvanizing it into life.
However, Ormandy’s sleekly upholstered
accompaniment for the best known of
Serkin’s recordings suggests why a dose
of period practice had to come. Against
this darting vitality, the Adagio is
very profoundly expressed, the poetry
of the piano-orchestra exchanges towards
the end standing as a touchstone to
some four decades of collaboration.
The third concerto
is new to the Argerich discography,
a work she had played only twice before,
more than twenty years ago. The booklet
notes frankly admit that she was in
some doubt right to the end whether
actually to go on stage and play it.
I’m very glad she did. Here, the tempi
in the outer movements are a little
on the slow side, but caution is clearly
not the reason, for there is still that
immense vitality in the passage-work
while the more lyrical moments are lovingly
expressed without any need to adopt
a slower tempo. The first movement is
proudly majestic, the Largo is once
again full of liquid tone and poetic
insights; perhaps in another twenty
years’ time she will find the same playfulness
in the finale with a tempo which avoids
the occasional sense of heaviness, but
overall it’s a gem of a performance.
With fine, lifelike
recording and the live audience making
itself felt only at the end, this is
a CD which shows that there can be
a point in recording these repertoire
works again; it is surely one of the
Beethoven discs of the 21st
century which will still be listened
to in the 22nd.
Christopher Howell
Martha Argerich (piano) 
