Comparative Listening: Liszt Piano Concerto No. 1 in E♭Major

It's been a little while since we've done Comparative Listening, the feature where five (or so) recordings of the same work battle for shelf space. Today, we're celebrating the 200th birthday of piano virtuoso and composer Franz Liszt, examining recordings of his Piano Concerto No. 1.


The contenders:

• London Symphony Orchestra cond. Josef Krips; Wilhelm Kempff, Piano (DG, 1953)
• Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra cond. Kurt Masur; Michel Beroff, Piano (Philips, 1981)
• New York Philharmonic cond. Leonard Bernstein; Andre Watts, Piano (Sony, 1963)
• London Symphony Orchestra cond. Claudio Abbado; Martha Argerich, Piano (DG, 1968)
• Budapest Festival Orchestra cond. Karl Anton Rickenbacker, Leslie Howard, Piano (Hyperion, 1998)
• Munich Philharmonic cond. Thomas Hengelbrock; Alice Sara Ott, Piano (DG, 2010)
• Vienna Philharmonic cond. Valery Gergiev; Lang Lang, Piano (Sony, 2011)

Franz Liszt's first piano concerto consists of four movements, played without a break. The composer, already the rage of Europe as a touring virtuoso, broke fresh ground with this work. As we celebrate his 200th birthday, let's look at different performances available on CD.

You can tell a lot about how the Liszt First Concerto is going to play out by how the piano soloist attacks the hellishly difficult opening cadenza. Wilhelm Kempff plays with astonishing speed and produces growling low notes. In the 1981 Philips recording, Michel Beroff offers a quiet, restrained take with expert conducting from Kurt Masur.

This early 1968 recording with Martha Argerich is impressive from start to finish.. She breathes fire right out of the box before settling down into the Beethoven-inspired main theme. Lang Lang's brand-new recording on Sony with the Vienna Philharmonic (coming out tomorrow) benefits from terrific orchestral playing under Valery Gergiev and pianism that alternates between fiery cadenzas and feline grace.

Some recordings present the two central movements as one big track, as they flow into each other without a break. Together, the Andantino and Prestissimo form a ten-minute structure. Ultimately, it builds to a recap of the opening of the Allegro.


The New York Philharmonic (under Leonard Bernstein) sounds splendid in this movement with the orchestra caught better than the piano part. This is not the fault of soloist Andre Watts. Leslie Howard, whose recording is available as part of his mammoth complete Liszt edition on Hyperion, produces bell-like tone in the cadenzas. He is helped by the idiomatic playing of the Budapest forces.

The final movement, a sprightly march, is played with great authority by the Viennese forces, particularly the descending figures in the heavy brass that introduce the first solo. Mr. Lang's fingers dance easily across the keys, playing these runs with astonishing speed. Alice Sara Ott uses force on the authoritative main theme, but her playing sounds clipped.

The strongest last movement belongs to the venerable German pianist Wilhelm Kempff, whose Beethoven recordings inspired a legion of aspiring pianists. Mr. Kempff takes a heavier approach to the piano part, rolling down the keyboard with great authority. Finally, Michel Beroff's performance with Kurt Masur is well conducted, and this underrated pianist plays with great speed and precision.

Bargain Basement Beethoven

Ludwig van Beethoven in 1805. Painting by Joseph Willibrord Mähler.
Collection of the Historisches Museum, Vienna, Austria.

In the mid-1990s, at the close of the CD boom, a flurry of complete cycles of Beethoven recordings were released, featuring smaller orchestras and so-called "original" instruments mimicking the technology of the 18th century.

Two of those are considered here.

The contenders:
Beethoven: The Nine Symphonies
Orchestre Révolutionaire et Romantique cond. John Eliot Gardiner (DG Archiv 1994, 5 CDs)
Chamber Orchestra of Europe cond. Nikolaus Harnoncourt (Teldec/Warner Brothers, Download)

These recordings feature John Eliot Gardiner's 60-piece Orchestre Revolutionaire et Romantique, a group assembled specifically to perform 18th and 19th century music with instruments that were contemperaneous to when these compositions were written.

The booklet cover for John Eliot Gardiner's Beethoven cycle.
© 1994 Universal Classics/DG Archiv 

Gardiner's players use authentic strings, which have a slightly rougher tone than modern instruments. The wind section features wooden transverse flutes, and finger-hole bassoons. Oboes and clarinets are shaped a little differently, and lack the complex key systems of modern instruments. Finally, a period orchestra uses copper kettledrums with goatskin heads, played with hard wooden drumsticks. The brass players use "natural" horns, where pitch is changed by removing a section of pipe (called a "crook") and replacing it with another.

The other difference between these recordings and "modern" sets by Herbert von Karajan or Claudio Abbado is the use of "metronome markings", the original tempo numbers specified by Beethoven on the scores of his later symphonies. Using these marks sometimes means that the works (particularly the Seventh and Eighth) hurtle along at a merry pace. The last movement of the Ninth is so fast that it's almost as long as the entire First Symphony.

The Teldec cycle was conducted by Nikolaus Harnoncourt, the Austrian period performance specialist and cellist who was a pioneer of the period instrument movement of the '70s and '80s. The set is different. Harnoncourt chose to blend instrumental styles, placing modern strings and winds next to 18th century brass and percussion. This is a contrivance, but it makes for a blend of sounds that makes this cycle unique.

The reissue cover for Nikolaus Harnoncourt's Beethoven cycle.

Harnoncourt's choice of tempo is sometimes idiosyncratic, and generally slower than Gardiner, by an average of about three minutes. (The "Eroica" is three minutes slower. In the Fifth, there is almost five minutes difference. Harnoncourt's opening movement of the Sixth Symphony (the Pastorale) clocks in at 13'22" with all of the repeats intact.

Gardiner's performance takes 11'13", and his whole performance is three and a half minutes faster than Harnoncourt's. The Ninth is even more radical in Gardiner's hands. But again, the difference totals three minutes, with the English conductor finishing first.

The Gardiner set is currently available as a 5-disc box, with the discs in envelopes for about $20. That's a hell of a discount, considering that the set retailed for about $60 when it was first released. The Harnoncourt is available on Amazon as a digital download: with the whole set for just $15.

Comparative Listening: The Bruckner Seventh

"There is the same slow, broad introduction, the drawn-out climaxes that grow, pull back and then grow some more--a sort of musical coitus interruptus"--Bernard Holland, reviewing a Bruckner symphony.

The survey comparing recordings of classic symphonies continues. (Maybe I should call this Battle of the Box Sets?) This week, the subject of analysis is Anton Bruckner's roof-raising Seventh Symphony, sometimes known as the "Lyric."

Bruckner

Bruckner worked on a big scale, writing four-movement symphonies that have been described by numerous other writers as "cathedrals of sound": slow arpeggios of ever-ascending strings and brass reaching heavenward. It has also been said that Bruckner wrote the same symphony nine times, an unkindness that misses the point. The little organist from Linz wasn't repeating himself: he was refining and reworking his central idea, creating new and different stairways to heaven.

With the Seventh, written in 1883 (and revised in 1885), Bruckner expanded his orchestral palette even further with the addition of four Wagner tubas, the brass horn/tuba hybrids invented by Richard Wagner for the first performance of the Ring. This choice was not accidental. Wagner died while Bruckner worked on the Seventh, and the work contains numerous allusions to the other composer.

The Contenders:
Berlin Philharmonic cond. Eugen Jochum (DG, 1965)
Berlin Philharmonic cond. Herbert von Karajan
Royal Scottish National Orchestra cond. George Tintner
Radio-Symphonie-Orchester Berlin cond. Riccardo Chailly
SWR Stuttgart Radio Symphony Orchestra cond. Sergiu Celibdache
Berlin Philharmonic cond. Daniel Barenboim (Teldec/Warner Brothers Classics, 1994)

I. Allegro Moderato
Like every other Bruckner symphony, the Seventh opens with a hushed figure for strings, meant to evoke the opening of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. Bruckner works methodically, building bricks of sound. The sonic wall rises slowly to a climax, played by a brass chorale. Then the brass stop, and the building resumes with strings, rising to another climax, and so forth. The first movement ends when the brasses start to play descending figures against the rising strings, an effect that reminds the listener of the rushing Rhine from Wagner's Das Rheingold.

Performances of this movement average out at 20-22 minutes, with Chailly being the slowest. All three Berlin Philharmonic recordings have those brass chorales breaking in a sonic wave over the listener. Celibidache's radio broadcast has a mystic quality to it, shared with many of that conductor's performances.


II. Adagio: Sehr Feierlich und Sehr Langsam
The second movement is a molten, shifting Adagio that allows the most Romantic conductors full rein as Bruckner pours out his grief for the passing of Wagner. The relationship between the two composers is at the heart of this movement, and its slow three-note figure recalls the preludes to Act I and III of Parsifal, Wagner's last opera.

Surprisingly, Sergiu Celibidache is not the slowest Adagio out of the box. That honor goes to Eugen Jochum's first commercial recording of the symphony at a solid 25'. Tintner is the fastest here, although still relatively sedate, given the flowing nature of the music.

III: Scherzo: Ser schnell
This lumbering movement is in the form of a Ländler, the Austrian peasant dance beloved of Beethoven, Bruckner and Mahler to show cheerful rustics galumphing through the countryside. Serious brass blowing here, followed by a relaxed trio and a final galumph. Every conductor gets to the trio 3'30" into the movement. Barenboim doesn't reach that point until 3'45".

Listen for yourself: Sergiu Celibidache conducts Bruckner's Seventh.

IV: Finale: Bewegt: Docht nicht schnell

Bruckner closes this symphony with a Rondo, but on a gigantic (in other words, typically Brucknerian) scale. The movement built from a five-note melody that recalls the first movement of his Sixth--as if the theme from that darker symphony had finally been resolved. This merry tune is played over a bed of shimmering strings in the cellos, woodwinds, and finally, of course the brass. This joyous shout brings Bruckner's most uplifting symphony to a thunderous close, as the ecstatic chorale of instruments soars up to final, uplifting series of chords that once more evokes Wagner's Das Rheingold.

The massive Rondo allows the most variance of interpretations between the six recordings considered. Celibidache is surprisingly sprightly here, a shade under 12 minutes. Daniel Barenboim's second recording with the Berlin forces opts for more weight, clocking in at 13'29".

For more on Bruckner's symphonies and these recordings, check out our Bruckner Buyer's Guide from 2010.

Comparative Listening: Mahler's Symphony No. 9

Gustav Mahler's final complete symphony is a difficult, extremely personal work. Structured around an arrhythmic figure in the harp and cello (Leonard Bernstein said it represents the the composer's own failing heart), this is a massive, anguished symphony that even intimidates some Mahler aficionados.

So it was not without trepadation that I decided to make the Ninth the focus of an exercise in comparitive listening. I would listen to five of the recordings I own, in search of some understanding of what makes these recordings different and what compels the record buyer to own different versions of the same piece. This is a new feature on the site, and I hope you like it.

The contenders:

• Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra cond. Leonard Bernstein
• Philharmonia Orchestra cond. Giuseppe Sinopoli
• Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra cond. Rafael Kubelik
• Chicago Symphony Orchestra cond. Pierre Boulez
• Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra cond. Riccardo Chailly

First movement: Andante comodo
The first movement of this symphony is a massive statement that starts quietly. A soft thump of harp, flute, and strings. An echoing, muted trumpet. The mood is quiet and contemplative. Slowly it builds, to a jarring, dissonant climax: the sound of a heart breaking. The climactic chords clash with the slow theme, and the whole dies away to silence.

Most conductors average about 29 minutes in this movement, a slow ramp-up of the 'heartbeat' theme followed by interjections of brass and percussion. The difference comes in how they choose to phrase the opening figure, which usually sets the pace for the whole movement.


Leonard Bernstein opts for the poetic approach. Pierre Boulez makes the minor-key brass fanfare at 11 minutes in a terrifying, forceful moment. Riccardo Chailly is slow and reflective, more restrained. Giuseppe Sinopoli, the surgeon turned conductor, is clinical and precise. However, his odd tempo choices and lack of rubato comes across as emotionless. Rafael Kubelik phrases the music with eloquence and sentimentality without tearing at itself.

Second movement: Im Tempo eines gemächlichen Ländlers.
The second movement of the Ninth is "in the form of a Ländler", the Austrian peasant dance that pops up in the symphonies of Mahler and Bruckner. Mahler has added dissonant passages and squeaking clarinet trills, distorting the dance to an almost unrecognizable shape. He then interrupts himself with a boisterous trio that runs out of energy--replaced by the faltering "heartbeat" motive.

Chailly, Bernstein and Kubelik seem most at-home in this music, with Bernstein taking the most rubato in the movement. Kubelik has excellent command of Mahler's typical rhythm, as he does throughout his underrated cycle. Boulez and Sinopoli don't quite make the orchestra dance.

Third movement: Rondo-burleske
Mahler pulls out all the stops in this manic movement, reminiscent of the last movement of his Seventh. A rondo is simply a "round", a short theme repeated and usually subjected to variation. Here it is twisted into a "burlesque" form--not a stripper's dance but a grotesque, comic caper, a grimace. This is the "blowout" movement of the symphony, filled with the violence and manic emotion of the death-struggle. Or is it just the composer laughing at the cosmic joke that is life?

Leonard Bernstein is well ahead of his peers here, stepping on the accelerator in a go-for-the-throat performance that still manages to make the one slow variation sound elegaic. Pierre Boulez gives this move a clock-like precision and power. He has the best brass section.

Fourth movement: Adagio. Sehr langsam und noch zurückhaltend. (Very slowly, and cautious)

The composer breaks convention with this final Adagio, placing the slow movement at the end. Impassioned outpourings in the strings argue with a reflective second melody played by the low winds and basses. This is followed by a very slow fugue that quotes several of the earlier Mahler symphonies and the Kindertotenlieder. The last bars fade to a reflective silence. Interestingly, the final notes are resolved by the opening of the first movement.

Bernstein and Chailly average out at 29:30 each. Theirs are diametrically opposed approaches to this music: one is impassioned, and the other contemplates infinity. Sinopoli in the middle of the pack at 25 minutes. Boulez and Kubelik are even faster: their interpretations are both eight minutes shorter at about 21:25 and 21:46 (respectively) compared to the other three conductors. All five recordings end with the gorgeous pianissimo fade-out that seems to transcend this mortal plane.