Bartók’s piano
concertos are important milestones in
his musical progress, and each of them
was composed at a key point of his composing
career. The First Piano Concerto was
completed in 1926, after the composer
had composed some important piano works
such as the Sonata and
the suite En Plein Air,
in which he displays his newly found
mature style. The First Piano Concerto
abounds with what we have come to regard
as Bartók fingerprints: angular
melodic lines, nervous rhythms, imaginative
writing for percussion, arresting sonorities
and – above all – complete formal control.
One of the most striking characteristics
of his piano concertos is their intrinsic
classical nature, for all their apparent
novelty. Bartók also insisted
that his concertos were for piano AND
orchestra, which means that the piano
parts – for all their virtuosity – are
integral part of the musical fabric
and that the orchestra plays as important
a part as the soloist. In fact, one
of the major difficulties in the first
two piano concertos is the precise co-ordination
between piano and orchestra. The First
Piano Concerto belongs to what might
be referred to as Bartók’s Fauvist
phase. The thematic material is characterised
by rugged energy and raw tone, particularly
so in the opening movement and in the
exciting third movement, whereas the
central movement sounds like some ominous,
heavy-threading dirge building up to
a mighty climax.
The Second Piano Concerto,
while much in the same vein as its predecessor,
displays some more accessible thematic
material, particularly in the brilliant,
rousing fanfares heard in the first
and third movements. The outer sections
of the slow movement are typical Bartók
night music, with delicate and mysterious
string writing and softly evocative
percussion, framing a more animated
central section. The whole, however,
is quite neatly structured, as Claire
Delamarche rightly observes in her excellent
notes (in French), in that the concerto
is laid-out as an arch (quite typical
of Bartók), i.e. first movement,
Adagio, Presto, varied restatement of
Adagio, third movement (actually a variant
of the first movement in which that
movement’s themes are restated in reverse
order). The Second Piano Concerto clearly
belongs to Bartók’s full maturity
culminating in the marvellous Music
for Strings, Percussion and Celeste
and the wonderful Sonata for two
Pianos and Percussion, both
being towering masterpieces.
The Third Piano Concerto,
written for his wife Ditta Pasztory,
is on the whole more straightforward,
more lyrical and readily accessible.
Some described it as Neo-classical or
"feminine" and generally more
traditional; but the music is as fine
as anything else in Bartók’s
mature output, and abounds with many
felicitous thematic material. The opening
of the first movement is quite beautiful,
and a magical moment in the whole piece.
So, too, is the Adagio religioso
conceived along the same lines as the
central movement of the Second Piano
Concerto, viz. hymn-like mysterious
outer sections framing a more animated
central section evoking bird-song. The
piece ends with a breezy, dance-like
Rondo. As is well known, the composer
did not live to complete the work which
was duly completed by Tibor Serly. The
Third Piano Concerto is, no doubt, one
of his most endearing and attractive
major works.
Generally, recordings
of Bartók’s piano concertos are
by the same pianist, orchestra and conductor
(I came to love these works thanks to
Fricsay’s recordings with Geza Anda
for DG, now re-issued in CD format).
Boulez obviously had another view of
the problem, and chose three different
pianists taking advantage of each soloist’s
personal playing. Needless to say that
all three soloists here play marvellously
throughout, and I would not single any
of them out, although I really liked
Hélène Grimaud’s feline
and delicate playing in the third concerto.
Needless to say, too, that all three
orchestra play beautifully for Boulez,
although at first hearing I found the
orchestral playing in the first concerto
a bit too polished. I am glad to say
that repeated hearings wiped this impression
away. So, in short, this is a splendid
release that is self-commending.
Hubert Culot
Krystian Zimerman (piano)a; Leif Ove
Andsnes (piano)b; Hélène
Grimaud (piano)c; Chicago Symphony
Orchestraa; Berliner Philharmonikerb;
London Symphony Orchestrac; Pierre
Boulez 
