Vladimir Horowitz III (Great Pianists of the 20th Century series)

Chopin may well be among the more controversial areas of "Horowitzian" interpretation, particularly apt at showing up certain stylistically dated qualities--or perhaps it's that we'd like to think ourselves more immune to the thrills of pianistic hyperathleticism and showy dazzle (witness the hurly-burly at the end of the middle section in the Opus 10, No. 3 Etude, from 1951). Already in the tinny mono of 1934's "Black Keys" Etude, there's an indelible sparkle, the pride of a lionized and risk-hungry young star. But for all the extroverted demeanor Horowitz brings to Chopin's poetry--who can after all resist the firestorming confidence and stage effects he brings to the A-flat Polonaise (from a 1945 recording)?--the artist also grew to encompass a subtler, more fractured, and more hauntingly interior view, as in the C-sharp Minor Etude (from a live Boston performance in 1980). The solo pieces make a fascinating contrast with the two concertos, both led by Fritz Reiner. The Beethoven, curiously, ends up sorely lacking some of the very Horowitzian qualities that get overdone elsewhere--too tame in the rondo above all--but it's still a vastly compelling interpretation with a regal, broad view of the first movement and much gentle poetry in the Adagio. Horowitz was indeed the first ever to record the Rachmaninoff Third, and the kaleidoscopic 1951 account included here still holds its ground for virtuosity, burning intensity, and musical conviction. All told, this finale to the Philips portrait of the artist is appropriately many-faceted--full of insights for the initiated and an engrossing introduction if you're just discovering this crucial figure. --Thomas May