The contents of these four CDs stem from numerous broadcast and concert performances by Walter Gieseking in the collection of Deutches Rudfunkarchiv. These, along with the pianist’s considerable output of commercial recordings, add up to a large and sometimes confusing discography. For instance, much of the repertoire here exists in other recorded Gieseking versions. And contrary to the label’s claim, not all of this material is previously unreleased. However, since Music and Arts sells this set at a special rate of four CDs for the price of three, I can’t imagine Gieseking specialists will sweat over duplicating one or two items already in their collections.
A trio of Bach Partitas from 1947 (Nos. 1, 2, & 5) find Gieseking in more inspired fettle than in his January 1950 Saarbrucken broadcast of all six. The sonics are more vibrant (notwithstanding patches of distortion) and Gieseking has a splendidly refulgent instrument at his disposal. He cooks up quite a storm in the D minor English Suite, listed here as a 1949 performance, but identical to a January, 1945 recording once issued by Music and Arts–also on Urania.
The Beethoven selections are lovely, served up with Mozartian poise and proportion. Note Gieseking’s rippling right-hand lines in Op. 31 No. 1’s wry slow movement, and his subtle tempo fluctuations throughout Op. 90’s gentle finale. The pianist’s firm concentration and telling voice leadings in a 1944 Moonlight Sonata score over his more detached EMI remakes in the 1950s. Gieseking unfolds Schubert’s lyrical patterns in the D major sonata finale (D. 850) and the G major Sonata-Fantasy with minimum fuss and maximum musicality. Too bad the sonics turn to hash at the loudest moments. Three Mendelssohn Songs Without Words (recorded in 1947) make a better case for Gieseking’s affinity for this composer than his 1956 EMI traversals, as well as the Andante and Rondo Capriccioso.
Schumann’s gnarly F-sharp minor Sonata and Symphonic Etudes find Gieseking plunging into the music headfirst without a safety net. Sometimes his fingers can barely keep up with the speedy tempos he sets, and we wonder if we’re experiencing Schumann’s feverish moodswings or a restless pianist. The first movement of Schumann’s great C major Fantasie gushes lava yet leaves plenty of breathing room in the sublime final pages. By contrast, the third movement is sung out in flexible melodic arcs that float over the bar line. A pity that the middle movement of this January, 1945 broadcast performance is missing, but the pianist’s wonderful 1947 German Radio Schumann Fantasie has all three movements intact.
Gieseking’s prowess with late Brahms shines in his ripe, keenly inflected Intermezzi (Op. 199 No. 3 and Op. 118 No. 2) and the F major Romance (Op. 118 No. 5). These 1933 recordings were gorgeously engineered for their time, and in fact sound better than Gieseking’s 1951 EMI remakes–and they’re better played too. The Debussy items benefit from rich, bass-oriented miking that contrasts to EMI’s more distant pickup. If Ravel’s Ondine lacks the controlled sweep of Gieseking’s amazing pre-war version, his ravishing pedal effects in La vallée des cloches are to die for. This Alborada del gracioso (also from 1947) scores over Gieseking’s three studio versions (1938, 1949, and 1954) for spontaneity and rhythmic snap. Of the three Scriabin sonatas, Gieseking fares best with No. 9’s mystic overtones and multi-layered sonorities. No. 3 has less alluring sound and more impatient pianism. The present Scriabin Fifth is sonically and interpretively inferior to Gieseking’s staggeringly demonic account recorded one month later, issued by Pearl. All in all, a release Gieseking fans will find fascinating.
