Tchaikovsky & Rachmaninov - Piano ConcertosFinal of the 1958 Tchaikovsky Competition (Previously unpublished)
Van Cliburn (piano) Moscow Philharmonic Orchestra, Kyrill Kondrashin history but in the entire history of performance. In that year the USSR established the first International Tchaikovsky Competition as a showcase for its own imperial talent. Once again the USSR would demonstrate that in the sphere of great romantic piano playing (one extending from Anton Rubinstein to Richter and Gilels) they had no equals. Summoning the finest pianists and jurors they prepared for a foregone victory followed by international acclaim. But neither they nor anyone else could have expected the gauntlet thrown down by a twenty-four-year-old 6’ 4’’ blond Texan pianist called Van Cliburn. Viewed with suspicion, Cliburn’s nationality invited hostility. This was the time of the cold war and the very real possiblity of a nuclear Armageddon as the USSR and America viewed each other across a seemingly unbridgeable chasm. Pre-conceived notions of American, Juilliard-trained pianists were in the air, of a crew-cut school expressed in broken-glass sound. So that Cliburn’s performances, characterised by broad tempi, rare poetic rhapsody and freedom captured in massive and delicate tone, came like a bolt out of the blue. All possible animosity turned to awe and amazement as Cliburn’s outsize audience listened to a pianist ‘more Russian than the Russians’, one who played their own music with a rare emotional warmth and charisma. Suddenly Cliburn, an outsider from alien territory, became their beloved ‘Vanushka’, the stage and dressing-room littered with gifts and flowers. Cliburn arrived in Moscow with three suitcases and left with seventeen. Later, when both jury and audience had recovered, their comments came thick and fast and this Testament release will surely re-ignite not a controversy but a unique triumph and occasion. Sviatoslav Richter, happily oblivious to competition protocol, gave Cliburn a hundred marks, his competitors zero, remarking, ‘he is a pianist, the others are not’. Shostakovich joined in the chorus of praise and Irina Zaritskaya (herself a major prize-winner, taking second place to Maurizio Pollini in the 1960 Chopin Competition in Warsaw) spoke with a special eloquence of Cliburn’s unique quality. “For we Russians his way with Tchaikovsky and Rachmaninov in particular was uncanny. Such grandeur, romantic warmth and empathy. He came close to sentimentality, but he never quite crossed the line. His playing had an extraordinary nobility. You can’t even imagine the furore he caused and his playing is still endlessly discussed in Russia today.” Extract from the note © Bryce Morrison, 2008 “…Cliburn gives the performances of his life. No wonder the audience erupts after the first movement of the Tchaikovsky. The allegro vivace assai section of the slow movement is taken at a daring pace, while the final pages are as thrilling as any on disc. ...then Rach Three... the first-movement cadenza... will make the hairs stand up on the back of your neck; the finale's peroration will sweep you away.” Gramophone Magazine, February 2009 “Here, published for the first time, are the performances that sealed the Texan's first prize in the inaugural International Tchaikovsky Piano Competition, earning him a ticker-tape welcome back home and the Soviet bureaucrats red faces.
The strings are acidic, the solo cello sounds like an alto sax, the piano is frequently clunky- toned, the Moscow coughers are out in force and Cliburn has his fair share of fluffs and fudges – but none of this matters. There is a palpable sense of occasion, one in which all concerned sense they are witnessing history in the making as Cliburn gives the performances of his life. No wonder the audience erupts after the first movement of the Tchaikovsky. The allegro vivace assai section of the slow movement is taken at a daring pace, while the final pages are as thrilling as any on disc.
The second item on the programme was the Rondo by Kabalevsky, a pièce imposé written especially for the occasion. On this disc, Testament places it as the final work after the Rachmaninov.
It's hardly a masterpiece but Cliburn dignifies it by treating it like one. And then Rach Three. Despite the sonic imperfections and some scarily uncoordinated moments, this one punches a hardly less emotional impact than Cliburn's astounding RCA recording. The firstmovement cadenza (Cliburn plays the bigger of the two) will make the hairs stand up on the back of your neck; the finale's peroration will sweep you away. Whatever that magical, indefinable gift is, Cliburn had it in 1958, his annus mirabilis.” Gramophone Classical Music Guide, 2010 |
Gramophone Magazine
