Krystian Zimerman

This Zimerman recording of the Brahms Piano Concerto no. 1 may have received some critical lambasting when it was originally released. However, despite this, I find that this recording is unjustly underrated because in its own special way it plumbs the depths of Brahms' heart and soul. Zimerman, although he recorded this in his late-twenties, interprets the solo part with insight, and does not go over-the-top with pianistic pyrotechnics, as most other pianists tend to do. Bernstein leads the Viennese musicians in a sympathetic accompaniment that serves as a perfect foil to Zimerman's parts and allows him to integrate into the orchestral texture. And the DG recording, although not entirely clear, is characterised by the atmosphere and bloom of the Vienna Musikverein, despite the extreme forward balance of the piano.

It was an eminently sensible decision to couple Zimerman's previously separate Chopin concertos on a single CD. The Ax/Ormandy/RCA disc is the only rival as a coupling, so let me say at once that in different moods I would be equally happy with either. The main difference, I think, is the actual sound. From DG we get a closer, riper sonority, with Zimerman's piano much more forwardly placed. Both orchestra and piano are more distanced on the RCA recording, especially Ax's piano. This, together with Ax's lighter, more translucent semiquaver figuration (and sometimes his greater willingness to stand back and merely accompany—as in certain episodes in the F minor Concerto's finale) often conjures up visions of Chopin himself at the keyboard, and we know he was often criticized for insufficiently strong projection.

His trills in the first movement of the G major Concerto are to die for, his passagework in the finale crystalclear, never hectic, always stylish. For their part Boulez and the Clevelanders are immaculate and responsive; they relish Ravel's neon-lit artificiality and moments of deliberate gaudiness. That goes equally for the Valses nobles, which have just about every nuance you'd want, and none you wouldn't. The recording is generous with ambience, to the point where some orchestral entries after big climaxes are blurred. Otherwise detail is razor-sharp and one of the biggest selling-points of the disc.

Everything that Schubert wrote seemed to have melody as its starting point. His piano music, so different from that of Beethoven, pulsates with this innate lyricism. The two sets of impromptus, not fiendishly difficult to play, require a pianist who can make the piano sing. Such a pianist is Krystian Zimerman. Indeed, his use of rubato and minute tempo fluctuations might seem excessive to some, especially in D 899 No 1, but I find them well-judged. Noting also Zimerman's velvet touch, and the warm DGG acoustic as recorded in 1991, I count this CD a total success.

Bartók's influence in the Forties and Fifties grew to a great height throughout the Soviet satellites of Eastern Europe, particularly among the better composers. True, one found serialists like Eisler in East Germany and Tadeusz Baird in Poland, but they seemed exceptions, rather than the rule. In Poland, for example, we meet the examples of the remarkable Grazyna Bacewicz and Witold Lutoslawski. Lutoslawski especially seemed to regard Bartók as Brahms did Beethoven, a spiritual father who inspired within him both an almost stifling reverence and the need to break free.

Krystian Zimerman made two Liszt discs for Deutsche Grammophon in 1987 and 1990 respectively: one of the two Piano Concertos and Totentanz, with the Boston Symphony Orchestra under Seiji Ozawa, the other of solo piano music, comprising Liszt's masterwork, the B minor Sonata,and a selection of late piano works - spooky, often unnerving pieces, like Nuages gris and La lugubre gondola II.

Few pianists have lived as long with Leonard Bernstein’s imposing and virtuoso Second Symphony as Krystian Zimerman. In the 1980s he often performed it with the composer as conductor, and he brings a wealth of experience to his playing. Less impetuous than some, Zimerman’s playing is wonderfully deep—he’s thought hard about the seething emotional life of the work, inspired by W.H. Auden’s long, angst-ridden poem. Rattle and the great Berlin Philharmonic add further depth plus a beautiful patina to the sound, and the recording is spectacularly well-handled with a real sense of perspective.

This is a magnificent recital captured in beautifully recorded 5.1 surround sound. My benchmark in this repertoire has always been Rubinstein. Now we have Zimmerman who knows how to express the poetry, fire and soul in this music with self-effacing, consummate virtuosity. The program includes the 4 Ballades, the wonderful Fantasie in f# minor and the great f-minor Barcarolle, among others. I haven't listened to the Schubert yet, but my expectations are high. If you love Chopin, buy this DVD and immerse yourself in this gorgeous music. Krystian Zimerman’s peerless artistry, filmed in 1987 by director Humphrey Burton.

In 5.1 DTS Surround Sound.