Customer Reviews

Vladimir Horowitz At Carnegie Hall-The Private Collection: Mussorgsky & Liszt

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Sony has dipped into the archives at Yale University for this first ever release of performances by Vladimir Horowitz at the height of his powers.

Horowitz was well known for his transcriptions of such works as Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsodies and Sousa's Stars and Stripes Forever. But he faced criticism when he altered significant portions of Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition - which was and remains far better known in Ravel's transcription for orchestra. Truth be told, Mussorgsky's original version is one of the most poorly written pieces - in terms of writing for the instrument, not musical ideas - in the piano repertoire. Before Horowitz, few pianists even bothered playing it at all. Those that did often made alterations, such as Moiseiwitsch in 1945. But it took someone with the guts and imagination of Horowitz to undertake a wholesale rewriting of the piece - which angered a lot of purists. In fact, Horowitz's changes are far more subtle than the firecracker like passageworks he afforded in his other arrangements.

Previous to this release, there were two issued recordings of Horowitz playing his arrangement of Pictures. The studio recording, from 1947, and a live Carnegie Hall performance, from 1951. Most reviewers have tended to prefer the 1951 recording, which has some incendiary passagework in The Hut on Fowl's Legs. I've been partial to the 1947 performance, which comes across as more of a single piece, rather than sectionalized. (Unfortunately, the 1947 recording has suffered from particularly poor remastering in BMG's Gold Seal Horowitz reissue.) The performance released here, from April 2, 1948, is more along the lines of the 1947 recording - although Horowitz, no doubt under the "battle-conditions" of live performance, does push tempo and articulation to extremes at times. Each Picture leads as part of the whole to the inevitable climax of the Great Gate of Kiev (appropriately, Kiev is the town where Horowitz grew up).

The 1949 recording of Liszt's Sonata in B Minor is another matter entirely - this performance is like nothing you've ever heard. Neither the cheetah like sprint of Horowitz's famed 1932 recording nor the labored grandiloquence of his 1977 remake can compare with this overwhelmingly incendiary performance. There will no doubt be controversy here, as Horowitz cuts 22 bars from the central Recitativo section of the work - but this performance must be heard.

The sound has been excellently restored by Jon Samuels. A few quibbles: At under 60 minutes, this disc is not well filled - and with the huge cache of unreleased material in Sony/BMG's vaults, there is no excuse. There was room for Horowitz's versions of Liszt's St Francis Walking on the Water and Balakirev's Islamey, also recorded at these concerts. And this CD, like many of Sony's new releases, is packaged in cheap paperboard - so handle with care.

This was a gift to my son who is in his Sr. year at the University in Piano Performance. Horowitz is a master, as well as a legend, and we never tire of watching his DVDs or listening to his CD's. This CD was the frosting on the cake. Beautiful!
The Art of Piano - Great Pianists of 20th CenturyVladimir Horowitz At Carnegie Hall-The Private Collection: Mussorgsky & LisztHorowitz in Moscow

I agree with the very informative comments and opinions in the other review of this release. My copy, also poorly packaged, was without any background information about Horowitz or these or other potential performances in this series. There were no performance dates for either work - only a one-liner about private tapes recorded between 1945-51. Shame on BMG Sony marketing staffs for this oversight. The sound, however, was quite acceptible - even vicerally exciting - given their age.

Aside from Bizet's "Carmen" and Sousa's "Stars & Stripes Forever," which were piano arrangements of orchestral scores, Vladimir Horowitz made changes to a number of piano scores that he felt were improvements to the originals. For example, Horowitz rewrote passages, typically adding supplemental chords to create drama or filling in notes here or there to highlight points, to Balakirev's "Islamey," Liszt's "St Francis of Paola Walking on the Water," "Vallee d'Obermann" and several of the Liszt rhapsodies among other things. While this practice was not uncommon in nineteenth century pianism, by the mid-twentieth century the composer's notes were considered more or less sacred and artists pretty much stuck to playing what was on the printed page. Nevertheless, even Rachmaninoff, as famous a pianist as he was a composer, continued tinkering with scores; and while he didn't re-write whole passages, he did add notes to Chopin where he felt something extra was needed. Needless to say, adding to or subtracting from a Chopin score would be totally unacceptable today - but making adjustments to Liszt, such as Horowitz continued to do throughout his career (his last modification was Mephisto Waltz in 1979) is more acceptable because there's a tradition of Liszt arrangements that provide some foundation for the practice.

The proof, I suppose, is ultimately in the results, which is to say that listeners can decide for themselves whether or not they like the final product. I loved Horowitz's "Mephisto Waltz" and thought "Vallee d'Obermann" from his 1966 Carnegie Hall recital was exciting even though his additions were unnecessary. In the case of the emendations Horowitz made to Balakirev's "Islamey" and Liszt's "St Francis of Paola Walking on the Water," which appear on a separate Horowitz "Private Collection" disc, I believe that the changes not only add nothing but actually detract from the composers' works. Just listen to Kempff's thrilling traversal of the second Liszt Legend and Arrau's monumental "Islamey" and you'll see that they stand perfectly well by themselves.

Horowitz's most famous re-arrangement, and in my view the most successful, was "Pictures at an Exhibition" where supplemental chords and fillers really are an improvement. Olin Downes, who wrote the program notes for the 1947 Carnegie Hall recital when Horowitz introduced his version of "Pictures," stated that "Mr. Horowitz has done a little 'piano orchestration' in ways confined to octave doublings, redistribution of passage work between the hands, transpositions of brief passages an octave below or above the original pitch etc. The effort has been solely to realize the intention of the composer and to refrain from gratuitous ornamention or officious 'correction' of any detail of the text as it stands."

Apparently, not everyone agreed with Horowitz's intentions. In the liner notes accompanying this disc, David Dubal quotes Horowitz as telling him, "they said I put graffiti on Mussorgsky, but I don't give a damn. I worked hard on that transcription, I am proud of it. You see, I felt the Pictures had to be brought forward. They were too introverted. When I change anything it is only to make a better piano sound." In my view, Richter's justly famous recording from his 1956 Sofia recital is still no match for Horowitz and the primary reason is that Horowitz is playing from a more interesting score. The performance on this disc is somewhat of a cross between the more stately studio version Horowitz recorded for RCA in 1947 and his chromium-plated reading from a 1951 Carnegie Hall recital (my favorite), both now available in the Horowitz Complete Original Jacket Collection.

The Liszt sonata, which is a disc-mate to Mussorgsky, is another matter. Here Horowitz decided to cut from the score: from bar 291 to the middle of bar 313. Dubal calls the cut "unexplainable"; however, Horowitz must have thought it an improvement. It certainly isn't a memory lapse; if so, Horowitz would never have preserved this recording, nor would the producers have issued it. I hesitate to call this cut a travesty, yet I don't know how else to describe it other than to say that it's an example of bad judgment. In any event, Horowitz's reading is organized, fluid and epic in a way that's totally unlike his 1978 stereo remake for RCA. I only wish he had relied a little more on the crystal clear articulation that is thrilling to hear all by itself and less on bursts of excessive speed and crashing chords. But that too was Horowitz....

Horowitz's playing has always been about drama. Whether he's smashing out octaves on the low end of the keyboard with the force of his entire body, or singing a high melody line so softly you can barely hear it, there's never anything boring or dry about the playing. In his younger days, recording technology was considerably lower quality, and in his older days he lost some of his finger dexterity and fire to old age, arthritis, and even drinking, for a brief period. These late 40's recordings capture him right when he's at his best, and i might even go as far as to say that these are the best Horowitz recordings of these two pieces available on disk.

the Mussorgsky/Horowitz is really a fireworks show. Mussorgsky's original leaves a lot to be desired, as Horowitz (plus lots of other pianists and arrangers) has discovered. So Horowitz takes it and dresses it up and turns it into a full-on showpiece of virtuosity. It's not something you listen to when you're looking for immersion in great emotional depth, it's something you listen to when you just want a thrill and an adrenaline rush. And it floors you. right from the opening promenade, to the playful outbursts of Gnomus, to the glorified and majestic Gate of Kiev, every second has a drama that captures the listener. Horowitz still has all his technical abilities fully in tact in the recording, and he is, quite simply put, on fire. For a cleaner sound, the studio recording is the way to go, but for unbridled fury, this is absolutely the definitive recording.

the Liszt sonata is completely in a league of its own. One of the most amazing pieces written for the piano, in terms of its pianism, virtuosity, emotion and musicality, it takes a lot to deliver a good thoughtful rendition of it -and Horowitz does not disappoint. Even moreso than the rushed 1932 studio recording, this version is flooring. It's possibly the single most electrifying performance of the piece i've ever heard. there's something about Horowitz's live energy that even the most high-energy studio recordings can't capture. Nothing is held back in this performance of the sonata (and if there WAS anything held back, unleashing it might be a truly apocalyptic experience). But it never sounds like it's gone too far. Perhaps Horowitz is the only one who could pull off such a dramatic performance, but even if that's the case he does it stunningly. I wouldn't call this performance of the piece definitive, but it definitely falls into my top 5.

I recommend this CD for Horowitz fans, piano fans, and music fans, in that order. there is nothing to be lost by hearing these hypercharged renditions of what may otherwise seem like out-played warhorses. And what oh what wouldn't i give to have been in the concert hall for these recordings!

I agree completely with the rave reviews of this disk. If you are familiar with Horowitz' later recordings you will find it hard to believe that this earlier one demonstrates even more remarkable pianistic virtuosity. The Liszt is from another planet. One caveat: be prepared to listen to a virtually continuous chorus of coughs during the pianissimo sections. Also, this is a transfer from an older 78 recording and it sounds like it. This being said, anyone who loves music and the piano and/or Horowitz should acquire this recording.

thank you, it is a wonderful CD, gave it to my husband for his birthday last week

I truly admire Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition -- it's ice cold and white hot all at the same time, it keeps my ears piqued, and it's never ever boring. That being said, Horowitz was my favorite pianist in my teenage years, I just found it unbelievably overwhelming the things he could do to a piano -- but, I'm quite honestly rather offended fairly frequently while listening to this particular recording. He walks all over and spits upon the nightmarish qualities inherent in the score. Where's the ecstasy? Where's the jubilation? Where's all the tone-painting? Where's the breathlessness? It's just a bunch of thwomps and kerschlams! Admirable technical facilities, absolutely, but I want to hear Mussorgsky... If this were a private home recording, that'd be something else entirely, but it's not -- it's Carnegie Hall, for crying out loud, The Field of Dreams, and I just feel that something of this sort would be better suited to the Village Vanguard or perhaps Madison Square Garden.

The Liszt is delicious.