Rachmaninov Piano Concertos

Lovers of Rachmaninov's Second and Third Piano Concertos should rush to buy, while it's still available, this magnificent CD by Noriko Ogawa, Owain Arwel Hughes, and the Malmo [Sweden] Symphony Orchestra. The Ogawa-Hughes-Malmo recording belongs alongside legendary performances by Argerich, Ashkenazy, Horowitz, Janis, Kapell, and the composer himself, and it is second to none in overall excellence.

Yefim Bronfman has a special affinity for these two concerti, a nearly selfless approach to the scores that keeps in mind that while the piano may be the solo instrument and provide key lines for the 'accompanying' orchestra to elucidate, the same relationship belongs to the orchestra when Rachmaninov introduced melodies in the orchestration that are then embraced with ardor by the piano soloist.

Despite the recording dates, the sound and balance are superb, and there's nothing to cloud your sense of Ashkenazy's greatness in all these works. From him every page declares Rachmaninov's nationality, his indelibly Russian nature. What nobility of feeling and what dark regions of the imagination he relishes and explores in page after page of the Third Concerto. Significantly his opening is a very moderate Allegro ma non tanto, later allowing him an expansiveness and imaginative scope hard to find in other more 'driven' or hectic performances. His rubato is as natural as it's distinctive, and his way of easing from one idea to another shows him at his most intimately and romantically responsive.

Russo-British pianist Yevgeny Sudbin has traversed the Rachmaninov concertos at a deliberate pace, issuing a recording of the Piano Concerto No. 4 in G minor, Op. 40 in 2007 and rounding out the set with this reading of the Second and Third in 2018. His Rachmaninov is carefully wrought, subtly intertwined with the orchestral part rather than trafficking in high contrasts, and here the effect is heightened by Sudbin's unusual interpretation of the opening Moderato of the Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Op. 18.

Gilels was a true king of pianists, and these Paris- and New York-based recordings only confirm his legendary status. Here, again, is that superlative musicianship, that magisterial technique and, above all, that unforgettable sonority. What breadth and distinction he brings to the first movement of the Saint-Saëns, from his fulmination in the central octave uproar to his uncanny stillness in the final pages. High jinks are reserved for the second and third movements, the former tossed off with a teasing lightness, the latter's whirling measures with infinite brio.

Noriko Ogawa and the Malmö Symphony Orchestra return to the works of Rachmaninov with a disc featuring his first and fourth piano concertos and Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. Rachmaninov’s first concerto was written while he was a student at the Moscow Concervatory, but underwent considerable revisions up to 1917. His fourth piano concerto was written after a considerable break from composition as he was kept busy as a touring performer in the USA. The unsuccessful first performance again led to considerable revisions.

Vladimir Ashkenazy’s way with the Rachmaninov Second Piano Concerto noticeably mellowed in the years between his blistering 1963 premiere recording on Decca with Kirill Kondrashin and this 1986 reading. That’s not to say it became mushy or dull, but it is certainly heavier, characterized by a prevailing darkness that calls to mind Stravinsky’s description of Rachmaninov as a “six-foot scowl.” Ashkenazy’s rich tone and emphatic phrasing assures an overall somber cast, while Bernard Haitink draws similarly-countenanced playing from the Concertgebouw Orchestra–the low strings especially. However, there is a respite from the gloom in the quite touching rendition of the lyrical slow movement.

Nikolai Lugansky and Sakari Oramo conclude their Rachmaninov cycle with the Second and Fourth Concertos, generally matching the proficient (though somewhat generic) standards characterising earlier releases in this series. The Second’s ample rubato and incisive climaxes are far better judged than in the recent, horrifically indulgent Lang Lang/Gergiev recording (DG, 4/05). And although Lugansky’s piano dominates in the mix, the first movement’s rolling arpeggios do not pull focus from the orchestra who, of course, have all the thematic material. In the slow movement I’d prefer a firmer, chamber-like profile between the pianist and first-desk wind soloists. You’ll also glean more ferocity and shapely characterisation from Stephen Hough, Krystian Zimerman, Sviatoslav Richter and Julius Katchen throughout the finale, but this is not to disparage Lugansky’s fleet, assured and world-class fingerwork.

Wild is a 'larger than life' pianist, one who can spin out a lyrical line and use romantic gestures without ever sounding self-conscious. His balance of excitement and control, and, indeed, his gorgeous sound, are a constant marvel.