Piano Sonata No. 2 in E flat major opus 45
Twenty-Four Preludes for piano opus 38 (C major, G major. F sharp minor, C sharp minor, B flat minor, A flat major, G minor, D minor)

Combined with:
Debussy: Children's Corner (Serenade for a doll), Twelve Etudes (Pour les cinq doigts, Pour les sixtes, Pour les huits doigts)
Moszkowski: Eight Characteristic Pieces opus 36 No. 6, Etincelles Etudes de virtuosité opus 72 (F major, A flat major)
Prokofiev: Three Pieces from Cinderella opus 95 (No. 2, Gavotte, No. 3), Valse lente (Waltz)

Vladimir Horowitz (piano)

Urania Historical CD SP 4206

Back again, live performances that show Horowitz at his barnstorming best

If anyone needs a sharp reminder of Horowitz’s greatness in certain repertoire, then this is it. Who else could – or would – show such a teasing and phenomenal mastery of tone in his tantalisingly brief selection of Debussy Etudes, biting and acerbic when not suave and luxuriant, their fantasy unfolded with all the cunning and artifice at his command. His ‘Serenade for a Doll,’ as on so many other occasions, is more speculative than coquettish, remembering, like Debussy himself, a long-vanished world of childhood innocence.

And who but Horowitz could make Kabalevsky sound so indelibly Russian rather than frivolous? He casts an aura of rare distinction over the eight Preludes he chooses from Op 38, conjuring a memory of Mussorgsky’s ‘Gnomus’ (Pictures at an Exhibition) in No 10 and whirling us through the moto perpetuo of No 3 with enviable aplomb. Even he has his work cut out focusing his audience’s attention on the Second Sonata (they grow restive and bronchial during arid stretches where the ghost of Prokofiev remains obstinately in attendance) but his lavishness, colour and hyper-virtuosity make the finale irresistible, and his long-favoured Moszkowski encores are tossed off with a nonchalance and demonism that only he could command.

His mischievous charm and ravishing cantabile in Prokofiev’s ‘Gavotte’ and ‘Valse lente’ from Cinderella close a recital of live New York performances dating from 1947-51 when Horowitz was at the height of his powers, long before he became a parody of his former glory. Such playing has you by the throat, roaring and whispering its audacity through every page. This reissue of performances which have entered and left the catalogue like so many Cheshire cats brilliantly captures Horowitz’s instrument with its resonating bass and splintering treble. There are no accompanying notes and the Moszkowski Etudes are placed back to front, yet these hardly seem considerations when such necromancy is on offer; just listen and be amazed by this ultimate Merlin of the keyboard.

Bryce Morrison
Gramophone, May 2003