Here is a record with a difference, both in repertoire and its performance. Whereas most pianists opt for whole sets of Brahm's late piano works(though I would always include the opus 76 Capricci and Intermezzi among them) of opus 116-119 Piotr Anderszewski gives us a selection from each opus, creating a seamless journey through alternating violent romantic upheaval and introspection. And, again, if others are happy to gloss over Brahms bitter-sweet, often dark and unsettling idiom, Anderszewski is fiercely concentrated and committed, compelling your attention at every level.
Recordings by this great pianist are a rare event. Like others before him(Myra Hess, Artur Schnabel, Clifford Curzon and, most recently, Radu Lupu, come to mind) he is not so much microphone shy as wary of a medium that makes the ever- elusive permanent.
So, what of Anderszewski in this unique and profound corner of a repertoire once described by the German writer William Ritter as 'like the golden lustre of parks in autumn, and the austere black and white of winter walks.' Starting with opus 119 No 1 he gives the opening three note descent with a heart-stopping sense of its desolation, making the reply a wonder of conciliation. Opus 119 No 3 may be a playful and optimistic rejoinder, but from Anderszewski it emerges with more weight than from other celebrated performances; from Clifford Curzon and Murray Perahia, to take two key examples. He rides the storms of opus 118 No 1 to powerful and rhetorical effect, while in opus 116 Nos 2-6 he reminds you of music far ahead of its time; prophetic of Debussy's impressionism and also in in the elliptical No 5, of minimalism. I first heard a performance of this from Emil Gilels, its ambivalence haunting me for days afterwards, its ending surely an ironic, mock-solace close.
Then there is Brahms final keyboard work, opus 119 No 6, the grandest of his three Rhapsodies and a final return to his early heroic and rhetorical grandeur. Here, and certainly in Anderszewski's magnificent performance, is a decisive burst of optimism, something that made me recall Dylan Thomas's 'do not go gentle into that good night/ rage, rage, against the dying of the light.'
Finally, I am aware that as in the case of any great pianist Anderszewski is a sufficiently personal and intense artist to provoke controversy. But for me his playing is of a rare mastery and conviction. He is heard and recorded too little.
Bryce Morrison