It is interesting to speculate on what precisely gives particular artists
the status of legend. Is it raw talent alone or do they also need to carry a
certain air of mystery. In the past before the technique of recording was
developed it was only word of mouth passed down the ages together with
contemporary accounts in newspapers and journals that secured such people
their place in history. In ‘modern times’ which could be said to date from
1860 when the earliest record of the human voice was made we have been
fortunate indeed to be able to judge for ourselves as to the merits placed
upon the shoulders of ‘legendary’ performers.
What is in no doubt is that the subject of this disc is one such. It is
well documented in words and on disc that Vladimir Horowitz’s playing was
not always perfect — not that he was alone in this aspect. That is perhaps
one reason that helps his legendary status to be maintained since this gave
him a human vulnerability that is often hard to find today. After all, we
are now used to every last i being dotted and every t crossed in the
recording studio as a result sometimes of multiple takes and the engineering
out of any hint of imperfection. As far as this disc is concerned the art of
re-mastering gives us an even better example of the 'warts and
all' nature and 'seat of the pants' excitement of
Horowitz’s pianism.
A child prodigy, Horowitz (born Gorowitz) began piano lessons aged three,
entering the local conservatory in Kiev at nine. With a mother, sister and
brother who were all accomplished musicians it is hardly surprising that he
too went down the same path. By the time he was 17 it was he who made his
debut and became able to support his family following his father’s loss of
property after the Revolution in 1917. At 22 he toured abroad for the first
time and blew audiences away in Berlin, Hamburg and Paris. A complex man,
full of contradictions, Horowitz made playing anything look easy despite his
under-use of the pedal and his straight-fingered playing.
Horowitz was notorious for cancelling concerts at short notice which led
to adverse publicity but also contributed to creating almost mythical
status. His return to the concert platform after various self-imposed
absences which totalled 22 years between the mid-1930s and 1980s fuelled
receptions these days reserved for the biggest ‘superstars’. As the
liner-notes point out, on one occasion audiences queued in the rain outside
Carnegie Hall for 27 hours before the box office opened; now that is what
helps make a legend. He was clearly hugely moved by audience reaction and it
is hard to believe that in fact he suffered from nerves throughout his
career because once playing he always seemed transfixed. It is noted too how
often he deviated from the score which he defended by saying that Chopin
never played a piece the same way twice. However, this habit may have caused
Emanuel Ax’s comment that while Horowitz was always in control he gave the
impression ‘that everything was just on the verge of going haywire’. All
these tendencies helped with his legendary status since his concerts were so
imbued with feverish anticipation that for days in advance the talk was of
nothing else.
If you have never heard his playing before you might be forgiven for
wondering what all the fuss is about especially when it comes to some of the
short works on this disc. It is only when he plays something that is
renowned for its supreme difficulty that you begin to understand how
naturally gifted he was. Examples of that here include Mendelssohn/Horowitz:
Wedding March and Variations after Liszt, Liszt/Horowitz:
Hungarian Rhapsodies Nos. 2 and 19 and Moszkowski’s
Étincelles. The embellishments he added certainly made them more
fiendishly difficult to play. Listen to the closing three minutes of Liszt’s
second Hungarian Rhapsody for a good example of this; no wonder the audience
erupts. In 1928 when he gave a performance of Tchaikovsky’s first piano
concerto in Carnegie Hall the usually reserved critic Olin Downes wrote that
the audience’s reaction was ‘like a tiger let loose’. Similarly when he
plays Scriabin’s
Sonata No.9 ‘Black Mass’ his artistry is further
revealed in what in most player’s hands is an extremely difficult work which
he makes sound no problem at all.
Moszkowski’s
Étincelles, although it is a short piece of only a
fraction over two minutes is a case in which his supreme mastery shows
itself. He dominates the music completely making it sound a brilliant little
gem. His Debussy is also delightful with little in the way of idiosyncrasy,
just pure magic. The booklet writer’s declared favourite is Horowitz’s own
fanciful arrangement of some of Bizet’s themes from
Carmen,
especially the
Danse bohème which he injects full of humour and
it’s easy to see why. The disc ends with another of these playful excursions
in the shape of his arrangement of Sousa’s
Stars and Stripes
Forever leaving us wishing there was a second disc to listen to.
Horowitz was a one-off and a complete original, someone for whom the
description of
Last of the Romantics is fully justified. We are
unlikely to see his like again, despite the Lang Langs of this world.
Steve Arloff
