Give 'Em Szell

National Review, June 16, 2003 by Jay Nordlinger

We catch him in Carnegie Hall on November 16, 1975. He has recently turned 72. As a recitalist -- as in other departments of his life -- Horowitz was quite uneven. He could give recitals of shocking mediocrity, making you wonder, How did he acquire his exalted reputation? And he could give recitals of stunning brilliance and profundity, making you answer, Ah, I see. The recital restored by Jon Samuels is good -- not great, but good enough.

It features Horowitz in typical repertoire -- pieces he played all the time, particularly in his last couple of decades. The first half is all-Schumann, that composer's Blumenst?ck and the Sonata No. 3 in F minor. Horowitz seems to have been a little nervous at the start, as he usually was. His was one of the worst cases of stage fright in musical history.

But the Blumenst?ck, once he gets rolling, is positively exquisite. We hear that marvelous singing tone, unlike anyone else's. We are also reminded of that masterly sense of line. In the Sonata, Horowitz is commanding, titanic. This is a big, sprawling work, known as a "concerto without orchestra." Very few pianists tackle it, but this one did so happily. He is sometimes thought of as a wild man (a Russian Borkh, a hysterical beast?), but he tames this sonata, lending restraint and providing cohesion. The final movement is marked "Prestissimo possibile" -- go like the wind. Like Horowitz needs an invitation? But he is actually rather polite.

He begins the second half with Rachmaninoff, the Prelude in G and the Etude-tableau in E-flat minor. His rendering of that prelude is not nearly his best. He all but blows it, making it strangely slow and wayward. Oh, the old man just might have had a fit had he known this performance would be released! The Etude-tableau, too, is worse than his usual: jerkier, more disjointed.

He then turns to two familiar pieces of Liszt, the Valse oubli?e and Au bord d'une source. Again, this is not his most exemplary playing. Au bord ripples nicely, as it should, but it is oddly subdued, a little limp (along with limpid).

The printed program ends with two pieces of Chopin: his Waltz in A minor and his B-minor Scherzo (a piece with which Horowitz often closed). In the waltz, he is surpassingly expressive, giving you again that astonishing singing tone, and that way with rubato, and that extraordinary pianissimo (undoubtedly the best in the business). The Scherzo begins with an inaccuracy -- not a great sign. In fact, Horowitz goes on to miss many notes, as he tended to do in recital. This makes this disc all the more human, and representative. The commercial recordings can seem sanitized (as, indeed, they were).

His encores were his usual: Debussy's doll serenade (unusually slow and ungraceful -- but with those fantastic Horowitz colors coming through); Schumann's Tr?umerei (dreamy as always); Moszkowski's Etincelles (less sparkly than usual); and Rachmaninoff's giant, thunderous Etude-tableau in D major. This last one is raw -- it feels almost unpedaled -- and the pianist misses a ton of notes, but his lion's heart is behind it, and you want to roar along with the audience.