Claudio Arrau remains one of the greatest pianists of the twentieth century, and occupies a notable place in the pianist's Pantheon. His approach or underlying philosophy as a musician, his immense sound, that velvet-tipped. massive sonority that seemed to come from below the very keys themselves, were cardinal features of his playing. Yet at the same time he invited controversy both as a pianist and at a personal level. Renowned for his quiet charm and courtesy(for many he had the air of a diplomat) he was not just a musical Titan (like 'Atlas holding the universe aloft' for one of his admirers),_ but given to critical swipes at his colleagues. For Arrau, Rachmaninov's playing was 'disgusting,' and although he performed the Second Concerto early in his career, he later described Rachmaninov's compositions as 'more like movie' music than anything more serious. He took a dim view of Jorge Bolet's freedom with the, for him, always sacred score and raised his hands in despair over what he saw as light-fingered and superficial playing('some pianists, they play very lacey,' his less than sympathetic ear focused on Walter Gieseking.) His admiration for Cortot's Chopin stopped when it came to other repertoire. For him Cortot 'could not play Germn music' with only a partial exception made for Schumann.
Such opinions are those of a major pianist who found it difficult to accept, let alone celebrate difference. No surprisingly they provoked a counter- blast; a no less critical response. Horowitz was not lost in wonder('so slow, ugh') while VIrgil Thomson, New York's waspish but perceptive critic, while awed by Arrau's ' overpowering appeal' claimed that his playing had everything to do with Arrau and little to do with the music's authors; that he was 'musically irresponsible.'
And so, point-counter-point. 'He plays with all the agony and ecstasy of creation. ' A rediscover of Chopin's power, and, amusingly, 'a Chopin 'big chested, strong in muscle and capable of putting your George Sand in her place.'. For others Arrau's glory was countered by reservations, a feeling that a certain pedantry and earnestness replaced a sense of freedom and spontaneity, that Arrau could bear down heavily on even the lightest, most whimsical of ideas, a tendency to check and pull back rather than rejoice in impetus and momentum, a sapping of music's primal energy. A true case, then, of 'plus ca change. After all, the majority of great pianists have invited controversy rather than a unform response.
There were psychological problems unimagined by those who basked in Arrau's outer glory. Talking to him many years ago I recall how he told me of how his love of ballroom dancing and Jungian psychology( he was invariably accompanied by a psychologist on his incessant travels) provided a release from the stress and tension of public performance. Those daunting cycles(Beethoven's 32 Sonatas in London followed by a repeat in America, all the Mozart Sonatas, the complete keyboard works of Bach early in his career, the complete works of Chopin etc) were approached with increasing dread, a sense that they would never be good enough. Surmounting one mountain peak only left him to see another still higher. Arrau's manager, Frieda Roth, told me of her struggles to convince him that all was well, to persuade him that his upcoming project would be a great success.
Such are the problems and vagaries, doubts and misgivings beneath the outward glamour and 'success'(a word always clouded in ambiguity) of a great artist's life.
Which brings me to FHR's magnificent 5 CD album, a reflection of Arrau's art in the autumn of his career. This is not the Arrau we know from his early days when his playing in works such as Balakirev's 'Islamey,' Albeniz 'Iberia,' Ravel's 'Gaspard de la Nuit' and Liszt's Spanish Rhapsody were of an ese and facility that prompted Emanuel Ax, a pianist of a later generation, to exclaim, 'technically, he makes us young ones sound arthritic!' Here, on the contrary. are performances honed over the years, a remarkable instance of a change of direction. Early and later Arrau are radically different.
CD 1 consists of Beethoven's opus 109 and the Liszt B minor Sonatas and shows Arrau at his greatest, the fruit of years of experience. Here in the Beethoven, all self-consciousness, and the sometimes affected and over-blown phrasing that could affect him at his least successful, are erased in playing of a matchless overall mastery, as total as it is natural. You are left wondering when you have heard Beethoven's opening paradox (vivace, ma non troppo) resolved with such ease And then there is the repeat of the theme concluding the final variations, a calming of the storm that made me recall some lines of the poet George Herbert, 'No more/I will abroad/ What? Shall I ever sigh and pine?/...But as I raved and grew more fierce and wild/ At every word/ Methought I heard one calling,/Child!/ And I replied, My Lord.'
Again, in the Liszt Sonat, that landmark in the history of music, there is that sense of reaching out, yet also with many surprises, sudden shifts of light and perspective that illuminate long familiar passages. If Horowitz's legendary 1932 recording of the Sonata is tricky and daemonic, Arrau's is the antithesis in its breadth and nobility. This is a Liszt Sonata like no other.
With Schumann's Symphonic Etudes (CD 3) you return to the more strenuous and recumbent Arrau, that tendency to sit heavily on phrases. Arrau would not be Arrau if he did not emphasize Schumann's' qualifying 'symphonic.' He includes all the repeats(for Geza Anda they make the work elephantine) and all the additional variations(supposedly by Clara Schumann, though their particular poetic flavour strongly suggests Robert). Arrau and French music were rarely a happy mix, his weighty Germanic style the reverse of French elegance and under-statement. The rain drops fall heavily in 'Jardin sous la pluie'( 'Estampes') and there is a welcome return to Arrau's true stature in the Chopin Fantasie, given with all of his stature and 'speaking' voice. What a sulphurous uproar he achieves in Liszt's 'Dante' Sonata, yet his Beethoven,(always at the heart of that massive repertoire) is more debateable. The 'Waldstein's opening is reserved to the point of lethargy, the reverse of, say, Schnabel's true 'Allegro con brio' and gust of life. I was reminded of Earl Wild's comment that Arrua was hardly a 'let go' pianist, and in the finale's opening(for the French the 'Waldstein' will always be 'le Sonate de l'aurore.' there is too little sense of radiance, of a break from the dark recesses of the central 'Adagio molto.' The same could be said of the 'Allegro Menuetto following the D major' Sonata's preceding ;'Lento e mesto(opus 10 No 3) while, Beethoven's playfulness in the same Sonata's finale finds Arrau 'almost too serious.'
Omnivorous to a degree, Arrau still found time for his love of teaching, working with some exceptionally gifted students. Garrick Ohlsson recalled his trepidation before a lesson only to find Arrau genial and relaxed. 'I played Debussy's 'l'isle joyeuse,' and he became overwhelmed with excitement. 'It must be like this(raising his hands to the heavens) and more like this(sinking his hands to floor level) before being more specific; 'the end, it must be—it must be-- like an orgasm!' We both collapsed in gales of laughter. I have not forgotten my time with Arrau.
Overall, this album is invaluable. While it hardly shows Arrau in the prime of life it reflects(never more so than on CD 1) a pianist whose scope and stature remain unarguable. It made me recall those many occasions when I left London's Royal Festival Hall shaken and awed by Arrau's magnificence. Agree or disagree, the stature remains.
Bryce Morrison