The following is a review I wrote for a concert Sviatoslav Richter gave in May 1957.
Obviously, I didn't attend this concert so the review is based on the recording I have of it.
If I remember correctly, Glenn Gould attended this concert and was greatly taken by Richter's playing.
Maybe one day, I'll review one of the concerts (or more accurately lecture-recitals) that Gould gave during this time.
The review:
Sviatoslav Teofilovich Richter was born on March 20 1915 in
Zhitomir in the Russian Empire (now Ukraine), but spent his formative years in
Odessa. Despite receiving some basic
instruction from his father, who was a professor of piano, he was largely
self-taught, preferring to read through opera scores than practise scales. He
made his debut as a 19 year old at Odessa's Engineers' Club, which is remarkably late for a great pianist. This
would be the only time he performed in his hometown. After studies in Moscow with
the legendary pedagogue Heinrich Neuhaus, Richter embarked on an extraordinary
career that would see him ranked amongst the greatest pianists of the 20th
Century.
Richter began his recital with the Schubert B flat Sonata
D960; the composer’s last word in this form. It was completed alongside its
sister sonatas in C minor D958 and A major D959 during a period of frenzied productivity
shortly before Schubert’s death in 1828. It was a piece that Richter
obviously identified with, and he performed it many times.
The first movement is very long; one of the longest in the
repertoire and Richter opens with an extremely slow tempo. In lesser hands this
could make it seem interminable, however, Richter had an extraordinary ability
to hold large scale form together; as if he had fixed his sights on the horizon
and never wavered from this point of reference. He succeeds in maintaining the
line throughout, so that, rather than the slow tempo reducing the tension, it serves
to increase it. Moreover, it adds to the piece’s solemn mood and imbues it with
more lugubrious undercurrents; as if Schubert were reflecting on death. It also
gives new meaning to the famous trill which ends the first phrase, by giving added
weight to the fermata that follows it. There is no feeling of serenity here
that one can hear in the performances of other pianists.
The question of whether to take the first movement repeat
has long sparked debate, with Alfred Brendel arguing that the similarity of the
exposition to the recapitulation and the difficulty of programming all three
sonatas (which he sees as a trilogy) in one evening pointed against it.
Richter, on the other hand, believed in absolute textual
fidelity, and in his notebooks deplored artists such as Murray Perahia and
Glenn Gould for skipping repeats. Personally, I do not find Brendel’s argument very
persuasive and agree with Andras Schiff’s assessment that omitting the repeat is
like severing one of the Sonata’s limbs. Here as elsewhere, Schubert’s ‘heavenly
length’ suggests, not a failure to adopt greater economy of means, but a desire
to express a grand sense of vastness in music. The upshot of all this, however,
is that it takes Richter 12 minutes to get to the development, and 23 minutes
to finish the movement.
The second movement builds on the gravitas and introspection
of the first. Richter seamlessly transitions into it by practically beginning attacca. To Richter’s mind, this is
clearly Schubert coming to terms with his own mortality and the sense of pathos
is palpable. I also like how Richter plays the insistent left hand ostinato which
ushers in the second subject with a slight accelerando.
Later Schubert modulates to the major mode and Richter plays with a calm serenity
that was wholly missing in the first movement.
The third movement scherzo is a bit of a letdown. Richter’s
tempo is decidedly fast; too fast for my taste. A slower tempo would help ease the listener
out of the hypnotic state he’d put us into without any jarring.
In the fourth movement, Schubert’s writing is episodic;
alternating sanguine playfulness with outbursts of passion. Richter was a force of nature; the Marlon Brando of piano. Like Brando, he had a wild
energy that could hit you like a Mack truck. However, in this instance he was
able to keep everything under control in spite of Schubert’s passionate flights
of fancy.
The second half of the recital began with Liszt’s Pensée des
Morts, from the Harmonies Poétiques et Religieuses. It is a sadly neglected
work that is rarely performed in public. When programmed alongside the Schubert
B flat, it serves to highlight the influence Schubert had on Liszt. Even the
writing appears to be Schubertian and it mirrors the vocal quality and steady
rhythm of Schubert’s opening before turning into a typically Lisztian storm of
repeated chords, tremoli and octaves.
Richter was a great Liszt player whose recordings of the
Sonata, Concerti and Etudes are amongst the very finest on record. He does not
disappoint here, delivering the most coherent reading of the piece I’ve heard.
In particular, the skill with which he balances gigantic climaxes with moments
of quiet introspection once again underscores his genius as a structuralist. Moreover,
he eschews cheap sentimentality, a common failing of lesser interpreters.
Next on Richter’s programme was Liszt’s Second Polonaise.
This piece has none of the fervent patriotism that is apparent in the polonaises of
Chopin. Neither is it as deep musically as the Pensée des Morts.
Instead, it has a more
improvisatory feel to it, somewhat akin to his Hungarian Rhapsodies, though it
is no way near as demonstrative.
I think the essence of the piece is its rhythm and it really
requires lots of rubato, brio and panache
à la George Cziffra to be effective (Rachmaninoff also make a stupendous recording). These are not qualities one would usually
associate with Sviatoslav Richter, and for that reason this was the least
successful performance on the programme.
Richter closed his
recital with the enigmatic Nuages Gris. This is late Liszt - Liszt at his most
uncompromising. In his late works Liszt challenged the primacy of tonal harmony
and set the scene for its final disintegration some years after his death. This is very solemn music that reflects what Brendel called
Liszt’s “bitterness of heart”. Richter excels in this music; giving it just the
right concentration of severity and mystery. It’s a shame he didn’t play more
late Liszt.
