Evgeny Kissin’s astoundingly proficient Brahms Paganini Variations recording from the mid 1990s made me wonder how he’d approach the composer’s equally demanding yet less demonstrably “flashy” early sonatas. The F minor’s unwieldy keyboard writing of course holds no peril for this virtuoso. Kissin tosses off the first-movement development’s treacherous octave jumps better than other pianists manage single notes. He grasps Brahms’ thick, widely spaced chords with the force and grip of a magnet sweeping up piles of nails. While Kissin often can be a capricious score reader regarding dynamics and phrasings, he follows Brahms’ indications virtually to the letter, honoring every accent, distinguishing each legato from non-legato articulation, and so forth. Much thought and planning seems to govern Kissin’s interpretation.
Yet some things are missing–for example, the lyrical warmth pianists like Rubinstein, Arrau, or Kempff bring to the first movement’s second subject to ensure that it truly contrasts with the turbulent main theme. Or how Nelson Freire truly sings the slow movement and makes more of what goes on in the left hand. Or Rubinstein’s proud swagger and lilt as he launches into the third movement. True, Kissin’s tiny rhythmic distensions enhance the mysterious aura behind the Finale’s opening chords, but once the music builds it’s Katchen’s wild abandon rather than Kissin’s staggering yet aloof control that pays off. The Intermezzo and Capriccio further confirm my sense that for Kissin, Brahms is an acquired rather than natural affinity.
On the other hand, the Hungarian Dances find Kissin absolutely in his element. This music easily can absorb Kissin’s affetuoso teasing and flamboyant fingerwork, and the performance comes within spitting distance of Katchen’s irrepressible standard. RCA’s hollow, sometimes-clangorous sound grows weary on the ears and is not to my taste, although it captures the full scope of Kissin’s huge dynamic range.
