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Rating: We need to meet, you and I. Together, we will make sparks fly from this music!...
This phrase might have been lifted from an imaginary dialogue, an exchange of letters, a phone call between the two great musicians. And it is not entirely out of place to think that something similar might have been said between Sergey Rachmaninov and Vladimir Horowitz, who certainly held extraordinary admiration for each other.
When the two meet in person for the first time, Rachmaninov had already been in the United States for about ten years. He left his homeland, Russia, in 1917, fleeing from the chaos and death of the October Revolution. "He didn't understand it," wrote Russian biographers. He leaves Russia with his family. First, he is in Denmark, where he engages in an intense concert activity, then, in 1918, he moves to the United States, which becomes his second homeland. His success in the US is immediate, enormous, no foreign pianist before him, let alone Soviet, has managed to become so famous and acclaimed by the public in such a short time.
His first time in America is in 1909. Already highly acclaimed, for three months he graces the stages of theaters and concert halls in the US, giving almost one concert a day. On November 28 of that year, he presents in New York, as a world premiere, the "Third Concerto," conducted by Walter Damrosch, who had worked with another great music theme inventor, George Gershwin. Then, in January the following year, 1910, there is a second major presentation of the concert at Carnegie Hall. The orchestra is the New York Philharmonic. Conducting none other than Gustav Mahler. Another example of deep mutual admiration between two first-rate musicians.
The "Concerto No. 3, op. 30 in D minor" is the true trait d'union between Rachmaninov and Horowitz. Horowitz brings it as a graduation exam at the Kiev Conservatory in 1919. Rachmaninov's music enters his bloodstream, and he will later consider this composer one of his all-time favorites.
Preceded by his reputation as an exceptional, virtuosic pianist with an engaging interpretative passion like a wildfire, Horowitz, also an emigrant first to Western Europe and then, in 1927, to the US, captivates and thrills in live performances, gaining the attention of the public, critics, and some of the most prominent figures in the musical establishment. He is noticed by Arturo Toscanini, who becomes his friend as well as his father-in-law (Horowitz marries Wanda, the daughter of the great Italian conductor, in 1933). Rachmaninov wants him for the interpretation of his "Third Concerto." Rachmaninov had written this concerto in 1909. Unable to give it the final touches, he boards the ship that, crossing the Atlantic Ocean, takes him to the United States. There are no pianos on the ship. Rachmaninov perfects the concerto by playing it, so to speak, on a fake keyboard.
This concerto fascinates. There are moments when it seems a storm of passions is unleashed. In various passages, it is frantic, dizzying. Until then, Rachmaninov himself has performed this concerto. It is his showpiece. He uses it to deliver the "coup de grace" to the audience, who always expects, from him, the supreme virtuosic piece. Around 1930, he makes a gesture of great generosity and courage: he "gives" it to Horowitz, who, having just arrived in the US, desperately needs a strong piece in his repertoire to attract his own audience.
To best interpret this concerto, one needs a technically impeccable pianist of great talent and yet young, energetic, and impetuous. Who better than Vladimir Horowitz can meet this challenge? The young Ukrainian pianist, who will acquire US citizenship in 1944, literally falls in love with this concerto. He gives its first-ever phonographic recording in 1930, and then the memorable interpretation on January 8, 1978 live, documented in this CD, given for the fiftieth anniversary of his debut at Carnegie Hall with the New York Philharmonic. For this occasion, the choice of conductor is also special: it's Eugene Ormandy, who had accompanied Rachmaninov for the phonographic recording of the work.
It must be immediately said that this interpretation by Horowitz is perhaps not the best ever, from a philological perspective, of Rachmaninov's "Third Concerto." Some commentators believe that, in this regard, one of the most noteworthy performances is that of the Russians Lazarev and Gavrilov. Others note how Horowitz tends to "smudge" the score in fast passages. But up to this day, no one has managed, like Horowitz, to render the interpretation of this concerto in all its expressiveness, its immediacy, the fervor, and the variety of nuances originally intended by the author.
Let's remember that Rachmaninov, before being the last of the great romantic pianists, is above all a direct, immediate composer, free from any intellectualism. "I write the music I feel within me, in the most natural way possible. (...) My music is the product of my temperament," the musician wrote in 1940. For this reason, Horowitz's interpretation is perfectly in tune with the spirit and energy of this score, which makes us remain motionless, listening to this music, captivated by the astonishment aroused by the pianist's virtuosity, from the first note to the last of his performance.
The quality of the recording of this CD is certainly not impeccable, despite the repeated cleanings and remasterings that entire teams of sound technicians have carried out on the tracks. However, Horowitz's piano sound still stands incredibly alive, multiform, vibrant. And here and there, the inspirations, the expirations of the orchestral members, perhaps even Horowitz himself, the audience's occasional coughs remind us that we are indeed listening to a live performance.
While purists may, in certain aspects, reproach this representation by Horowitz, they cannot deny his extraordinary ability to render the Rachmaninovian score, its depth, its brilliance, the variety of images created by the timbral colorations, the breadth of the dramatic range, the feverish urgency to depict varied states of mind, and above all, the passionate and visionary lyricism. All this is conveyed through the notes, which now follow calmly, now in sudden and frenetic surges, requiring the constant support of a virtuosity in execution by the solo pianist no lesser than that which, as is known, the author was capable of.
In light of these observations, it is almost surprising to realize how this "Third Concerto" begins with simplicity (first movement, "Allegro ma non tanto", 16'44), even though the usual commentators are quick to point out that it is only an apparent simplicity. The orchestra performs a rhythmic motif of two(!) notes, on which the harmonic texture of the solo piano opens, but after merely fifty seconds from the start, the atmosphere becomes lively, animated. This motif of two notes is fundamental and will return throughout the composition, even in inverted form. From here, the piano performs a primary theme where melancholic accents prevail. But the growing virtuosity takes over and resolves into a solo piano passage without accompaniment.
The transition to the second movement ("Intermezzo: adagio", 11'40) is accomplished through a string bridge, which again imparts a melancholic and introspective coloring to the melodic structure. After the lyrical excursion of the orchestra, the mood becomes tempestuous, the melody breaks, overshadowed by an ominous and mysterious atmosphere. Again, a solo piano passage that recalls the theme of the first movement. And now nostalgia, the true, deep kind, takes center stage again. It is the piano that does it all, in a passage that moves towards idyll. The passion grows. Sublime. And this time, the closure is very cadenced, with a militaristic quality.
The third movement ("Finale: alla breve", 14'51) opens with a warm-toned melody that evolves into a series of variations on the same theme. Suddenly, the tension increases, themes from previous movements are revisited, the piano performs an insistent cadenza, culminating in a majestic closing. Horowitz attacks the keys of his piano, the finale is whirlwind, and it is accentuated by the rolling timpani and repeated cymbal crashes. The end. The applause from the audience is explosive. The ecstasy and amazement, held throughout the performance of the concerto, are released in the form of joyously shouted acclamations. That evening of January 8, 1978, more than a few in the audience must have had the impression that the soaring enthusiasm was bringing down the walls of Carnegie Hall.
This CD also features another remarkable live performance (1980): the "Piano Sonata No. 2, op. 36 in B-flat minor", again with Horowitz as the soloist, a piece written by Rachmaninov between January and August 1913. This piece is interesting because it testifies to the close collaboration between Rachmaninov and Horowitz. The composer accepted suggestions from his pianist friend, who proposed reverting to the original conception of this Sonata while Rachmaninov had, over time, made successive revisions to make it better suited for live performance.
The CD is over. The sublime music of this "Third Concerto" is now silent. The impressions remain. For some moments, days, or a lifetime, the echoes of the warm and mutable voice of Vladimir Horowitz's piano playing Rachmaninov's "Third Concerto" will linger with me. I am happy to have heard it. I very much wish that my happiness could be shared by those who have listened to it as well. And by those who will listen to it.
Just a small note in the margin: in the text, I chose the spelling "Rachmaninov" instead of "Rachmaninoff," found in Anglo-American literature, because the former corresponds to the transliteration from Russian more commonly accepted in Italian.
Rachmaninoff, "Piano Concerto No. 3," "Piano Sonata No. 2," Vladimir Horowitz, New York Philharmonic, Eugene Ormandy - 2004, BMG Music
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