Shura Cherkassky, piano
RACHMANINOFF: Concerto 3; PROKOFIEFF: Concerto 2
BBC 4092- 76:9
These recordings of concerts featuring Russian pianist Shura Cherkassky are a real treat for lovers of temperament and spontaneity. A native of Odessa, the legendary city that has produced so many pianists and violinists, Cherkassky holds an important place at the heart of what has been called the Golden Age of the piano. Like many others, his studio recordings often put on a good show so as not to shock right-thinking consumers, or posterity. But in public performances, as this recording attests, Cherkassky's playing is less controlled but tinted with a high sense of a noble poetry, created by a great lord who can also transform himself into a creature of fancy.
Rachmaninoff’s Third Concerto, accompanied by the BBC Symphony Orchestra under the direction of Rudolf Schwartz, illustrates Cherkassky’s romantic notion of tempo. The confidence accorded to emotional crescendos and breathing goes way beyond the mathematical limitations imposed by the metronome. Tempo, rhythm, and phrasing are inspired by the moment. Each note stands alone in the present moment, giving no hint of what is to follow. Cherkassky’s dynamics, his touch, his intentions are born in the now, without premeditation.
This ideal conception of music has a shortcoming, however, when there are several players on the stage: the fusion must go beyond maintaining the beat to a kind of human alchemy, call it telepathy. This is frankly not the case with the Austrian-born conductor, Rudolf Schwarz. Though he seems to tolerate Cherkassky’s whims in the first two movements, he begins the third with a more mischievous defense of his own tempo. This little domestic row clearly has no affect on Cherkassky, who continues to play as freely as any schnorer, the beggar musicians on the streets of Odessa who often play better than the prizewinners in our conservatories.
With Kent Nagano and the London Philharmonic Orchestra, the chemistry is more convincing, with a result that is less stormy but no less inspired. Although this recording was made four years before his death, it mustn’t be thought that Cherkassky had softened with age. Still as anticonformist as at the start of his career, he remained an unpredictable pianist to whom conductors had to adapt. Despite his 81 years, his interpretation of Prokofieff’s Concerto No. 2 conserves all the energy and freshness of his inspiration of the moment. Without losing any of the grotesque and caustic elements of the piece, Cherkassky and Nagano are in perfect agreement as to the poetry of the first movement and the theatrical effects of the third. All in all, this version of Prokofieff’s Concerto No. 2 is highly recommended; that of Rachmaninoff’s Concerto is no less precious as a witness to Cherkassky’s art.
VILLEMIN
Published in American Record Guide, Vol. 65, N. 4