Customer Reviews

Arthur Rubinstein plays Chopin [Box Set]

5 star:		(9)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

This early collection of Chopin by its ultimate master is a superb, moving collection of Chopin's best. Many have claimed that Rubinstein's early recordings of Chopin are more virtuosic than musical. Nonsense. Listen to the nocturnes and many of the mazurkas and you will be moved. The scherzos have a visceral impact (especially the third) that cannot be matched by anyone, not Horowitz, not Argerich. THe sound quality leaves more to be desired but other than that, this is the best recording in terms of sheer raw pianism and musicality of this music. Superb!

Otherwise, I would have given 5 stars. The fact that these have a hiss (and you can practically hear him close the piano on several numbers) should be mentioned. I guess we are spoiled to audio quality, but this is an expensive collection and this fact was glaringly omitted. That said, I have enjoyed the recordings, in spite of the very audible hiss.

These are the earlier discs of Rubinstein's Chopin, recorded by HMV in London during the 1930's. It is less complete than his later recordings for RCA - no Sonatas, no Ballades, no Etudes. The sound is naturally of its time - but in many ways more natural than the sharply-lit, slightly edgy piano sound RCA favoured in the 50's and 60's. Nevertheless, these are the Chopin performances I return to most.

Rubinstein's natural affinity with Chopin is legendary. He seemed always able to capture precisely the right degree of rubato at exactly the right moment in these pieces. And he had a unique ability in his countryman's music to balance the lyrical with the impassioned, what seems completely spontaneous with what is clearly deeply considered. The Nocturnes here are, I think, the best you'll hear anywhere on disc. In the greatest of them - the Opp.37 & 48 sets, for example - Rubinstein gets the contrast between the dreamy nocturnal outer sections with the darker, more impassioned central sections just right. These are not salon miniatures in his hands but big works, if not in length then in content. And no-one can match Rubinstein in the elusive diversity of this complete set of Mazurkas. The two Concerti both have Barbirolli as the sympathetic conductor, following Rubinstein's lead in the ebb and flow of phrases and whole sections of these gorgeous and often maligned works. Interestingly the recording of Concerto No.2 (actually the first composed) dates from before the pianist's famous withdrawal from public performance to reconstruct his technique and his approach, that of Concerto No.1 from after. Perhaps one can detect a touch more maturity and refinement in his approach to the latter, but they are both ravishing performances.

Many of the performances on these 5 discs are the greatest Chopin you're likely to hear. And the ear soon adjusts to the somewhat old-fashioned recorded piano sound. This is a highly desirable set for any lover of Chopin and/or great piano playing.

This is my favorite album. I think that not even Rubinstein's later recordings attain this quality of musical involvment.

There is a fair amount of background noise, but the music helps to forget it rather quickly overall.

The thirties was the sublime decade of Arthur Rubinstein. His maxim splendor as perfomer and interpreter was plainly recognized around the world. Moreover, in the eve and during the bloody WW2, his presnce on international stages was emblem of the ferocious resistance against the German besiege of his beloved Poland. In many ways Rubinstein had to have felt a tragic resemblance with Chopin. Far away his birthland, playing the Polonaises like cannons hidden between flowers.

Arthur Rubinstein's expressive poetry will always be associated with Chopin, specially during the twenties, thirties and forties. After the upheaval of the WW2, the classical patterns suffered a radical transformation, and Rubinstein, as in the case of Wilhelm Kempff were regarded old fashioned styles. The new appearance of legendary soloists such as Michelangeli, Lipatti, Francois, Kapell and Moravec added new visions and his hegemony began to vanish.

The influence of Cortot and Busoni forged a more sophisticated style where the dramatic language was blended with the texture and the significance of the sound gave Chopin's poetic musicality a wider dimension with unexplored horizons.

Nevertheless, during the last twenty years, his preponderance has regained acknowledgement for the wider audiences, thanks (among other factors) the digital restoration.

This album is a must-have. Don't miss it.

The interpretation is stunning. Mono - but no matter for solo piano - and a wee bit hissy but still quite superb.

Artur Rubenstein the master of Chopin plays the selections with beauty and passion as befits this music. Please feel free to buy this but bear in mind very little of the music from this era of recording is in stereo - but it does not make any difference.

Complete recorded editions of Classical music were almost unheard of in the 1930s. Artur Schnabel was making a complete version of Beethoven's 32 Sonatas, but many musicians didn't consider Chopin's music "worthy" of such attention (he was just a salon composer, after all). Arthur Rubinstein didn't believe any of that nonsense about Chopin. His respect for his compatriot informed both his interpretation of his music, and his decision to record the bulk of Chopin's piano music. This 5CD set contains Rubinstein's first cycle of Chopin's music, although it's far from complete. Rubinstein didn't get around to recording a set of Waltzes or Ballades until the LP era. It's pretty well known among his fans that he tried to record a set of Etudes in the late 1960s and quit after one session. Nor did he record any of Chopin's juvenilia such as the first Sonata. Caveats aside, these recordings deserve to be heard. There's a sense of adventure and discovery that is somewhat absent in Rubinstein's later recordings (not to mention those of certain note perfect automatons).

The Barcarolle, Op 60 was recorded at Rubinstein's second recording session, in 1928. This performance is closer in tempo and phrasing to the manner in which Rubinstein played the piece "live" than his later studio recordings. Indeed, there is an erotic impulse in this version which is largely missing from his 1957 and 1962 remakes.

Rubinstein made three complete versions of Chopin's Scherzos, with this first set dating from 1932. All three versions offer testament to the pianist's solid technique, innate virtuosity, and natural sense of musical architecture. Tempos are breathtakingly faster in these earlier performances than in the later ones. Considering the fact that editing was impossible during this era, and his considerable risk taking, Rubinstein's very few inconsequential mistakes are understandable.

As with the Scherzos, Rubinstein recorded three versions of the Mazurkas. This first version (from 1938-1939) is markedly freer, more compelling, and more poetic than his later remakes. It's my favorite among Rubinstein's three sets. The pianist's use of rubato is more pronounced, as is his greater emphasis on inner voices, which Rubinstein later banished from his playing. Rubinstein's 1936-1937 Nocturnes (again, the first of three sets) are also far different from his 1960s stereo version. In addition to the attributes found on the early Mazurkas, these performances are graced with more sensitive shades of pianissimo (Rubinstein's quiet passages became louder as time progressed, possibly due to hearing loss). As with his other two versions of these works, Rubinstein never allows sentiment (empathy) to be confused with sentimentality (schmaltz).

If the nocturnes lull you into a sense of repose, the Polonaises will get you fired up. It is interesting to compare this 1934-1935 cycle with the more renowned stereo version from 1964. While the later cycle emphasizes a rather dignified approach, the earlier version is more spontaneous. The brio, freedom, and swagger of this set simply have to be heard to be believed. True, Rubinstein, like a runaway train, comes dangerously close to running off the rails at times. But the musical rewards the pianist reaps are well worth the technical risks, and the more reflective Polonaises are played with simple, unforced poetry. Rubinstein's innate understanding of the structural underpinnings of Chopin's music comes through in the Polonaise-Fantasie, Op. 61, a notoriously difficult work to hold together. On balance, I feel the 1950s "middle-period" set most effectively balances virtuosity with gravitas.

Rubinstein made three official recordings of the E minor Concerto, and four of the F minor Concerto. (There is an additional, filmed performance of the F minor from 1975.) As was customary during the 78RPM era, the introductions of both concertos are shortened here. Rubinstein's tempos are faster than in later versions, with greater use of rubato and freer phrasing. There are some inconsequential mistakes here and there, both on the part of the pianist and the orchestra. Despite the occasional fluffs and dated sound, these are some of the most scintillating Chopin concertos on record. But I must frankly confess that I feel Rubinstein has been bettered by Krystian Zimerman (in his self-conducted version with the Polish Festival Orchestra) and Vasily Primakov in the Concertos. The London Symphony Orchestra under John Barbirolli provides a strong accompaniment to these often underrated works.

These recordings originate from 78RPM discs. They have been issued several times, including by RCA as part of their complete edition of Rubinstein's recordings. If you already have those, there's no point in getting this EMI set as RCA's remastering is superior. The remastering here is acceptable, and at budget price, it is very tempting for the newcomer. Despite the slight surface noise, and occasional "tubbiness" in the piano tone, Rubinstein's fresh performances come through loud & clear.

If someone put a gun to my head and demanded to know the best choice for a Chopin cd purchase, I would state with confidence "get the EMI classics Rubinstein collection". These recordings, made mostly in the 30s, contain some of the very best Chopin ever recorded. I've spent a lot of effort trying to find definitive versions of every Chopin piece, with the result that the Rubinstein 30s recordings of the Concertos, Nocturnes, Mazurkas (which are contained in the present set) are historically definitive. For competitors, I mention Moravec's 60s recording of the Nocturnes and Zimerman's two recordings of the concertos. I know of no better recording of the complete Mazurkas. Also, no Chopin fan should be without the present recordings of the Scherzi and Polonaises, which have few competitors. For the Barcarolle I suggest Dinu Lipatti, and for the Berceuse, Solomon. But each recording here, definitive or not, is first rate and a front runner. The recordings were made at the beginning of a transition period Rubinstein made in his 40s when he forced himself to relearn his repertiore in a more disciplined manner than he had previously; it was at this stage in his life that Rubinstein acquired the status of being one of the greatest piano artists of the century. Thus these recordings are very inspired and more reliable than later Chopin recordings he made. Of course Rubinstein is, over all pianists, most closely associated with Chopin. This is somewhat unfair in the sense that there are many brilliant pianists who have outstanding recordings of Chopin which do compare and sometimes exceed Rubinstein's. The present set is an outstanding selection which will best represent Rubinstein's contribution to a library of Chopin recordings.

My daughter, age 10, and a very gifted pianist, is paging through our sheet music collection looking for something to sightread. (She has been playing Beethoven's Tempest Sonata #17? for the past hour.) And the page opens to the B Minor Mazurka (Opus 33 #4). She is in heaven!

She asks me if we have recordings. I say yes, and we go to the recordings bin. There's Kissin. Smooth, nice fingers, nothing to write home about. Then, there is Horowitz! (the second all-Chopin disc.) Wow. What power! What agility. You can't even tell when he's crossed over! You can even hear him breathe! Bravo! But she doesn't want to hear it again.

Then we put on the Rubinstein. Hmm. Hmmm. Hmmmm! Hmmmmm! The rubato throws her for a loop. So we listen again. And we turn it up a little. Hmm. Hmmm. "Dad, can we hear it again?" (and I've got tears in my eyes.) Hm. Hmm. Dancers. Flung into the circle and then out, and then in again. And so it goes. We listen to it five times in a row.

I would have been happy to hear it again. Daughter goes to bed to the Nocturnes.