Solomon plays Beethoven, Schumann, Bach, Chopin & Brahms

These monaural Berlin recordings were made towards the very end of this great English pianist’s performing life. They are reasonably clean sounding and most ears will accept the dullness with little complaint. Beethoven’s Sonatas 3 and 14 are pleasant enough excursions. There is little here to dazzle the listener, save the tempestuous finale of the Moonlight Sonata. This style of playing appears to be vanishing in our present world. Along with fine musicianship and control of line and phrasing, Solomon demonstrates his spare use of the sustaining pedal. The closeness of the sound does make the music seem plodding sometimes, but I am assured by people who actually heard him that many of his recordings give a false impression. In any case, the Adagio of Sonata 3 is pure and golden. The Scherzo is as light-textured as the perspective allows, and the final Allegro assai impressive by surety of technique and beauty of the contrasting lyrical section. The opening of the Moonlight Sonata is wonderfully sustained and always clear. As simple as the music seems, it has been a stumbling block for many pianists. Schumann’s Carnaval is best heard at a reduced volume. Raise it slightly and the performance can seem too aggressive. While Solomon knows what to do with Schumann’s quirky rubatos, he refuses to indulge in sentimentality or even allow things to blossom forth into full-blooded romanticism. Each section occupies a unique sound world, and his relentless forward motion seems to sweep all before it. It may not be the Carnaval for everyone, but you will respect it in the morning. In Bach’s Italian Concerto his playing should please all but the fussiest harpsichord enthusiasts. The sparse use of pedal and brilliant embellishments bring this towards the top of a select group of recordings. Chopin’s Fantasy in F minor demands playing of great scope and sensitivity. Solomon’s response to the opening march-like tune at first sounds measured, yet grows gloriously as the work is pressed ever forward. There is an instinctive response to each tempo change, and the varied climaxes reach their peaks just where they should, not too soon or too late. The Nocturne in B-flat minor is both tender and flowing, but his very fine Scherzo 2 is somewhat sabotaged by print-through in the all-important silences. In the Brahms grouping two of the more reserved Intermezzos—Op. 116:3 and Op. 118:6—contrast with an explosive Rhapsody, Op. 79:1. The notes are acceptable, and you can acclimate yourself to the relentlessly loud sound.

Audite have released a well-produced double-pack of "The 1956 RIAS recordings of Solomon". Most of the items have already appeared on APR (4/95), the contents – Bach's Italian Concerto, Beethoven's Sonatas Nos 3 and 14, Brahms's Intermezzos Op 116 No 4 and Op 118 No 6, the Rhapsody Op 79 No 1, and a Chopin group (the F minor Fantaisie, the First Nocturne and the Second Scherzo). But I'd never heard the recording of Schumann's Carnaval from the same period and was interested to compare it with Solomon's quietly characterful 1952 EMI studio recording (now on Testament, 7/97). As it happens, there's very little to choose between them, save for the brighter, slightly shallower sound on the broadcast. So if you already have the APR and Testament discs, I'm not sure I'd bother.

However, if you've never acquired the 1959 (Philips) coupling of Beethoven's First and Fourth Piano Concertos with Robert Casadesus and the Concertgebouw Orchestra under Eduard van Beinum, Pristine Audio now affords you the opportunity. These are coolly considered, clear-headed performances, fluent, profoundly classical in style and sonically well balanced. In a word, satisfying – and you have the added interest of Casadesus's own cadenzas. Pristine have also released an earlier (mono) Casadesus recording of Falla's Nights in the Gardens of Spain with the New York Philharmonic under Dimitri Mitropoulos, translucent often exciting playing, vividly accompanied. The same all-Falla CD also includes Mitropoulos's highly individual versions of Three Dances from The Three-Cornered Hat and the "Interlude and Dance" from La vida breve. If you want big, "butch" Falla, then Mitropoulos is your man.

And for a vivacious, affectionately phrased Johann Strauss II miscellany you could hardly do better than an Audite disc of early 1950s radio recordings by the RIAS Symphony Orchestra under Ferenc Fricsay. This is Strauss in the tradition of Reiner, Dorati and Szell, disciplined but loving. Shame about a couple of nasty edits in the Kaiser-Walzer – otherwise the sound more or less matches any good commercial recording of the period.

Comenté en este Boletín, en el ya lejano año de 2002, varios CD que Testament dedicó al pianista británico Solomon Cutner (1902-1988), de nombre artístico Solomon a secas. Esta singular circunstancia sirvió a José Luis Pérez de Arteaga para titular un sustancioso ensayo sobre el pianista en Scherzo, en 1995; hoy lo tomo prestado para encabezar esta reseña. La imponente colección de 16 CD dedicados por Testament a este eximio artista, todos grabados en estudio en los años 40 y 50 para EMI, se enriquece con estos registros de la RIAS alemana fechados en febrero de 1956. Pocos meses después, en el verano de ese año, Solomon y Walter Legge hubieron de suspender – parecía que temporalmente – el proyecto, ya muy avanzado, de grabar las 32 Sonatas de Beethoven para piano, que hubiera competido con los ciclos de Kempff, Backhaus y el joven Gulda para el Nuevo formato del disco microsurco de larga duración. Pero el destino no lo quiso así, y las molestias en el cuarto y quinto dedo de la mano izquierda de Solomon, que los especialistas no acertaron a valorar, resultaron ser las primeras manifestaciones de un gravísimo problema circulatorio que, a fin de 1956, dejó hemipléjico a Solomon y cortó para siempre una carrera que comenzaba, por fin, a tener el merecido reconocimiento internacional. Treinta y dos años de vida le quedaron a Solomon, que pasó recluido en su hogar de Londres, cuidado por su esposa y apoyado por algunos colegas y amigos. Un muy triste final de una carrera que hubiera podido concluir gloriosamente: méritos artísticos no le faltaban a Solomon.

Buena parte de la música recogida en estos dos CD Audite figura en la citada colección de Testament, pero hay algunas novedades: los dos Intermezzi opus 118.6 y opus 116.4, más la Primera Rapsodia opus 79.1 nos recuerdan qué extraordinario intérprete de Brahms fue Solomon (¿hace falta mencionar los dos Conciertos para piano y orquesta, la Tercera Sonata para piano o las Variaciones Haendel?). También es novedad el precioso Concierto italiano de Bach, desgranado con una admirable claridad de líneas, a tempo constant en cada movimiento, pero sin el menor atisbo de lectura mecánica, que tanto puede perjudicar a esta bellísima música y a la melodía infinita de su andante, en particular. Excelente el trío de obras de Chopin, sobre todo la Fantasía en fa menor opus 49 y el hipnótico Primer Nocturno, opus 9.1, de matizadísima sonoridad; el Segundo Scherzo, sin duda arrebatador, suena un poco precipitado. Estas dos últimas piezas tampoco figuraban en la antología de Testament. El Carnaval de Schumann vuelve a ser memorable, como lo era el de Testament, y figura entre las referencias fonográficas de esta obra. Las dos Sonatas de Beethoven incluidas, opus 2.3 y Claro de luna opus 27.2, revalidan la excelsa calidad de Solomon como intérprete del músico de Bonn, sensible por igual a los aspectos clásico y romántico que alternan en estas dos sonatas de juventud.

En resumen, dos horas con Solomon en el estudio de la RIAS en Berlín, captadas con excelente sonido, eco de los recitales que ofreció en la capital alemana en febrero de 1956, son una fiesta para cualquier aficionado.

A Jewish boy from the East End, Cutner Solomon went from exploited child prodigy to master pianist, his career abruptly cut short at 54 by a stroke – although he lived a further, crippled, 32 years. These RIAS recordings are of typical repertoire: Bach’s Italian Concerto, Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight’ and Op.2:3 sonatas, Carnaval, Brahms Intermezzi and a Chopin group including the F minor Fantasy. The Audite essayist finds a ‘holy sobriety’ in his playing – never overstated, elegant but not emasculate. Few ‘Beethoven pianists’ convince equally in Chopin, as Solomon could (eg, the Op.9:1 Nocturne here). A bonus is the fine sound quality of these 23/24 Feb ’56 tapes.

Andrew Mc Gregor introduces a special Christmas Day edition of CD Review, rounding up some of the year's new releases from composers celebrating their aniversary in 2010...

Sendebeleg siehe PDF!

Bei Audites neuem Doppelalbum mit „historischen“ RIAS-Produktionen handelt es sich nicht um CD-Premieren: Die Berliner Studioaufnahmen Solomons, 1956 kurz vor dessen vorzeitigem Verstummen entstanden, liegen auf dem britischen Label APR schon seit Jahren vor. Allerdings erscheinen sie hier erstmals als Digital-Transfer des originalen Bandmaterials, und dies sichert der Neuveröffentlichung einen unüberhörbaren klanglichen Vorsprung.

Walter Rathert hat im Begleitheft Solomons Kunst mit dem Hölderlin-Wort „heilignüchtern“ zu fassen versucht. Er trifft damit Wesentliches, sofern man den Ausdruck nicht als schönfärberisches Synonym für Blässe oder sklavisches Buchstabieren missversteht. Im Gegenteil gehörte Solomon ja zu den kraftvollsten und zugleich formvollendetsten Pianisten der ersten Hälfte des vorigen Jahrhunderts, die wie etwa Backhaus, Rubinstein, Gieseking, Gilels, dann auch Michelangeli und Anda konsequent dem damals jungen Ideal entschiedener Werktreue folgten. So sind sein Bach, Beethoven und Schumann Muster geradliniger, kernig und überlegen disponierter Gestaltung, sein Chopin öffnet, um ein Wort Schumanns zu variieren, den Blick auf die „unter Blumen verborgenen Kanonen“ dieser Musik. Mag manchem darüber ein träumerisch-romantischer Ton auch etwas kurz gekommen sein: In der Verbindung von kompakter Konzentriertheit mit musikalisch perfekter Nachzeichnung aller Melodie- und Formbögen ist Solomons Spiel nach wie vor modellhaft.

Sehr leise, tonbandbedingte Vorechos, vereinzelt minimale grifftechnische Flüchtigkeiten.

Von Solomon gibt es nicht so viele Aufnahmen, so dass jede Veröffentlichung mit beiden Händen entgegengenommen wird. Und wenn das Resultat der Interpretation und die klangliche Restaurierung so gut sind wie hier, dann hat man ein wertvolles historisches Tondokument in seinem CD-Gerät liegen. Die Aufnahmen stammen alle vom 24. Februar 1956, sind also somit kurz vor Solomons Schlaganfall entstanden, der das Ende seiner Karriere bedeutete.

Die Erkenntnis, welch uneigennütziger und einmaliger Interpret Solomon war, eröffnet sich dem Zuhörer bereits in den beiden Klaviersonaten Nr. 3 & 14 von Ludwig van Beethoven. Der edle Anschlag, die faszinierende Schlichtheit bei der Auslotung der Musik, die unwahrscheinliche Tiefe, die ohne Effekte erreicht wird und natürlich die brillante Technik weisen Solomon als einen Grandseigneur des Klaviers aus. Seine interpretatorische Einmaligkeit, die man vielleicht nur mit Claudio Arrau vergleichen kann, prägt dann auch Schumanns Carneval und die Intermezzi op. 118/6 und op. 116/4 sowie die Rhapsodie op. 79/1 von Johannes Brahms. Die Fantasie op. 49, Nocturne op. 9/1 und Scherzo op. 31 von Frederic Chopin zeigen, dass dieser Komponist auch in den Fünfzigerjahren nicht nur als Salonvirtuose, sondern als ein äußerst versierter Komponist angesehen wurde. Nur das italienische Konzert von Johann Sebastian Bach hat trotz Solomons intensiver Darstellung, vom heutigen Standpunkt aus gesehen, etwas Staub angesetzt, weil die Bachinterpretation damals von einem sehr romantischen Blickpunkt aus erarbeitet wurde. Aber auch das ist ein Zeitdokument. Wir können diese einmalige Veröffentlichung von Audite, die man als ein wirkliches Monument bezeichnen darf, nur wärmstens weiterempfehlen.

koreanische Rezension siehe PDF

Admirers of Solomon will know that a number of years ago APR released a two disc set of his Berlin recitals [APR7030]. This set replicates those performances, but for the significant addition of the Carnaval performance.

According to Bryan Crimp’s biography, Solomon spent eight days in Germany in February 1956. He performed the Beethoven Second Concerto with the Berlin Philharmonic and Cluytens, and played recitals in Detmold, Wuppertal, Hamburg and Frankfurt. Whilst in Berlin he was taped in two broadcast performances by RIAS. These are the surviving performances, excellently reproduced, though quite drily recorded. Regarding the differences between the APR and this new Audite transfer I will note that Audite’s is reproduced at a slightly lower level than APR’s but otherwise I don’t find any dramatic differences between them.

The recital plays to Solomon’s accustomed strengths. The Op.2 No.3 sonata is purposeful and intrepid. Solomon’s sculpting of dynamics in the central movement is especially noteworthy; voicings are brought out with unselfconscious definition – refined, meditative or via the sepulchrally interjectory bass. The brilliant clarity of his articulation is fully audible in the finale, which is played with seemingly effortless control, but not a trace of false urbanity. The companion Beethoven sonata is the Moonlight. Earlier in his career Solomon had taken the opening movement with gravely deliberate slowness. Now he had seemingly reconciled himself to a greater sense of spine in the music, so his tempo is several notches faster for the Adagio sostenuto, a feature I welcome. There is still, however, something unavoidably funereal – not ponderous – about the tempo he adopts. The Allegretto acts as both relief from this introspection, and also a motor for the crispness of Solomon’s playing of the finale.

He made an admired recording of Carnaval in the summer of 1952 for Walter Legge and EMI. This live performance four years later is, not surprisingly, similar in outline, though occasionally it differs in detailing. What impresses yet again, however, is the real consonance of the playing, a marrying of tonal production and expressive control. The result is not, perhaps, the most lavish of readings but it builds cumulatively, never allowing incident or detail to override architecture. His Preambule is manly, the rubati in the Valse noble splendidly realised, and Florestan marvellously characterised.

We lack a significant body of Bach recordings from Solomon. There are some transcriptions, a couple of Preludes and Fugues, and one such arranged by Liszt, but the return is small from a player so distinguished. His Italian Concerto is thus greatly to be welcomed. There’s nothing withdrawn or sturdy about his playing of it, with smartly etched rhythm in the outer movements and delicate refinement in the central one. It makes one wish he’d recorded the Goldberg Variations, or some of the French Suites. Note the little sulphurous bass detonations in the finale, where drive and clarity are armed together. There are three pieces each by Chopin and Brahms to be negotiated. Of the former, the Fantasie is elegant, musically refined, and full of dappled control and poetic spirit. The Brahms trio include a performance of the E major Intermezzo that enshrines introspective probity, assured balances between the hands and no false gestures. You seldom, if ever, got those with Solomon.

His admirers, who will probably have the APR, will now be faced with dilemma of this previously unreleased Carnaval. There is surprisingly little live Solomon, so my view is to go for it.