Brahms’s Variations on a Theme by Paganini

Brahms’s Variations on a Theme by Paganini hold a unique place among his piano works. Pianistically, every aspect of technique is explored, and even today there are few works considered more difficult or more physically taxing. This Parnassus of technical wizardry (dedicated to Carl Tausig, the Liszt pupil whose technique was said to outshine even that of his master) has instilled fear into pianists ever since its publication in 1866. Subtitled “Studies for the Piano,” Clara Schumann proclaimed them “Hexenvariationen” (witch variations) because of their immense difficulty. The theme is that of Paganini’s 24th Caprice — the same theme that has inspired piano variations by, among others, Rachmaninoff, Liszt, Lutosławski, and (venturing into the obscure) Ignaz Friedman and Mark Hambourg. (Robert Schumann is often incorrectly grouped with the above; although he wrote works based on Paganini’s Caprices, none utilizes this theme.)

“All pianists practise the Paganini Variations; not all play them in public!” writes Alan Colebourne in his annotations to one of the recordings. There was a time when only the greatest pianistic titans dared perform these diabolically difficult variations, but nowadays there is no shortage of young warriors willing and eager to show off their stuff. There are also those who disdain this work, denouncing it for its “empty” virtuosity, instead declaring their allegiance to the musically “superior” Handel Variations. In reality this is little more than musical snobbery. A much more disturbing problem is presented by those frequently encountered performances that glide over the work’s musical aspects. Even in a work as difficult and technically oriented as the Paganini Variations, no performance — no matter how technically accomplished — can be considered a success if it fails to address the work’s musical content in a satisfactory manner.

There are currently 116 extant commercial recordings of the Paganini Variations by 99 different pianists. Ninety-six of these recordings are more or less complete, whereas the other twenty are either heavily abridged or present only one book. For the purposes of this overview, 112 recordings were studied (versions by Yukino Fujiwara, Eugene Indjic, Madeleine Nussbaumer, and Gregor Sauer proving unobtainable), and the vast majority of these were auditioned blindly. ‘Blind’ listening removes virtually all bias or preconceptions one may have about a particular artist or recording, and the resulting impressions are often surprising. All forthcoming comments – positive or negative – should be taken as to apply only to the performance in question and not to the pianist as a whole.

PIONEERS

Although the Paganini Variations were in the repertoire of many great historical figures, only seven pianists made pre-war recordings of them. Louis Kentner’s version jumps immediately to the forefront. His beautiful reading, with its effective combination of poetry, musicality, and virtuosity, is badly in need of CD reissue. The rubato in II:4 Poco allegretto. Con grazia. A graceful waltz reminiscent of old Vienna. A successful rendition requires a certain stylistic lilt from the performer. is hypnotic, pushing ahead and holding back at all the right times; his glissandos in I:13 Vivace e scherzando. Reminiscent of a Hungarian dance, a spirited display of awkward grace notes, octaves and octave glissandos in the right hand. Many pianists take the liberty of starting the final glissando an octave higher for added effect. would be the envy of many, and the light, sprightly touch used in II:5 Dolce. Light and delicate triplets scurry down the keyboard, contrasting with a simple dotted rhythm melody in the upper part. is captivating. Squeezed onto a single 78rpm disc and therefore heavily abridged, we get only Variations I:1, An immediate test of the pianist’s technique. Sixths in the right hand are soon pitted against thirds in the left hand. I:2, Here the sixths appear in the left hand against octaves (often with filled-in third or sixth) in the right hand. I:3, A difficult variation full of repeated notes and leaping arpeggios in contrary motion. To complicate matters further, both hands compete for the same space. I:12, Andante espressivo. The music-box variation. The harmonies in the second half are as eloquent and tender as any Brahms wrote. I:13 Vivace e scherzando. Reminiscent of a Hungarian dance, a spirited display of awkward grace notes, octaves and octave glissandos in the right hand. Many pianists take the liberty of starting the final glissando an octave higher for added effect. and II:3, A bouncing staccato bass (patterned after Schumann’s F-sharp minor Piano Sonata) with humorous offbeat sforzandos is contrasted with the right hand’s charming octaves and thirds. II:4, Poco allegretto. Con grazia. A graceful waltz reminiscent of old Vienna. A successful rendition requires a certain stylistic lilt from the performer. II:5, Dolce. Light and delicate triplets scurry down the keyboard, contrasting with a simple dotted-rhythm melody in the upper part. II:6, Poco più vivace. Straightforward arpeggios are transformed into one of the more entertaining moments of the piece by the addition of grace notes. For whatever reason, there is no repeat marked for the first half, but it seems clearly indicated since it occurs in every other variation without exception. Only Idil Biret on Vega, François-René Duchable, Elzbieta Glabowna, Walter Klien, Karlrobert Kreiten, Jacob Lateiner and Kurt Leimer omit this repeat, thus demonstrating literalness at its worst. II:8 Allegro. A violinistic effect is created by the rapid, widely spaced contrary-motion arpeggios and the quasi pizzicato notes that follow. Also present is a rarely played ossia which can be heard in the recordings by Kaya Han, Ian Hobson, Louis Kentner, Evgeni Kissin, Hiromi Okada, Nicolai Petrov, Michael Ponti and Sviatoslav Richter. and II:11. Vivace. Exceedingly difficult alternation of octaves and single notes in both hands. He concludes with a slightly cut version of the Book I Finale. Allegro. Everything from rapid passagework, leaps, repeated notes, broken octaves, trills and tremolo-like figures is thrown at the pianist in this bravura and very notey ending to the First Book. Several pianists choose to jump to the first variation of Book 2 upon reaching the fermata that marks the half-way point (henceforth referred to as the fermata cut). Antonietta Antoniades, on the other hand, takes up twice as many discs to record Book 1 alone. I’ve not come across her name before or since, but based on this recording she must have been a fine pianist. Her playing is technically impressive, musical, and full of fire. The version by the now-forgotten child prodigy, Aline Van Barentzen, is far less satisfying. She tends to adopt brisk tempos beyond her reach. ‘Emergency’ rubato is ever-present, and in I:5 Espressivo. The first real test of the pianist’s musicianship. Some cross-rhythms, cross-phrasing and hand crossings are present, but the bigger challenge is in handling Brahms’s brooding, passionate, polyphonic writing. there is little expression. Jacob Gimpel’s reading also does little to distinguish itself.

Egon Petri plays the work with wild abandon. The more difficult variations reveal an almost superhuman technique ( II:1 One of the most exhausting and technique-oriented of them all. Fiendish double note passages are tossed from one hand to the other. and II:11 Vivace. Exceedingly difficult alternation of octaves and single notes in both hands. , for example), but he disappoints terribly where expression is called for, racing through I:5 Espressivo. The first real test of the pianist’s musicianship. Some cross-rhythms, cross-phrasing and hand crossings are present, but the bigger challenge is in handling Brahms’s brooding, passionate, polyphonic writing. and II:12 Un poco andante. Dolce espressivo. The key of F major brings us one of Brahms’s most beautiful creations. A captivating, deeply expressive theme floats over a flowing arpeggio accompaniment. , and stripping II:3 A bouncing staccato bass (patterned after Schumann’s F sharp minor Piano Sonata) with humorous offbeat sforzandos is contrasted with the right hand’s charming octaves and thirds. of its charm. Karlrobert Kreiten’s murder by the Nazis put an end to what looked to be a promising career. If one can listen past the myriad wrong notes and flubbed passages in his homemade recording of Book 2 from 1934, there does seem to be a genuine talent there.

This leaves only Wilhelm Backhaus, who made no fewer than three recordings of the work, including the first ever. The earliest, for Polydor in 1916, is messier than one would expect. As in Kentner’s version, Backhaus fits what he can onto a single disc ( I:1, An immediate test of the pianist’s technique. Sixths in the right hand are soon pitted against thirds in the left hand. I:2, Here the sixths appear in the left hand against octaves (often with filled-in third or sixth) in the right hand. I:3, A difficult variation full of repeated notes and leaping arpeggios in contrary motion. To complicate matters further, both hands compete for the same space. I:5, Espressivo. The first real test of the pianist’s musicianship. Some cross-rhythms, cross-phrasing and hand crossings are present, but the bigger challenge is in handling Brahms’s brooding, passionate, polyphonic writing. I:6, Syncopated octaves with added third or sixth in the right hand against an ostinato-like octave pattern with tricky leaps in the left hand. I:7 Contrary-motion octaves alternate with contrary-motion double-notes. and I:13; Vivace e scherzando. Reminiscent of a Hungarian dance, a spirited display of awkward grace notes, octaves and octave glissandos in the right hand. Many pianists take the liberty of starting the final glissando an octave higher for added effect. II:4, Poco allegretto. Con grazia. A graceful waltz reminiscent of old Vienna. A successful rendition requires a certain stylistic lilt from the performer. II:6, Poco più vivace. Straightforward arpeggios are transformed into one of the more entertaining moments of the piece by the addition of grace notes. For whatever reason, there is no repeat marked for the first half, but it seems clearly indicated since it occurs in every other variation without exception. Only Idil Biret on Vega, François-René Duchable, Elzbieta Glabowna, Walter Klien, Karlrobert Kreiten, Jacob Lateiner and Kurt Leimer omit this repeat, thus demonstrating literalness at its worst. II:8, Allegro. A violinistic effect is created by the rapid, widely spaced contrary-motion arpeggios and the quasi pizzicato notes that follow. Also present is a rarely played ossia which can be heard in the recordings by Kaya Han, Ian Hobson, Louis Kentner, Evgeni Kissin, Hiromi Okada, Nicolai Petrov, Michael Ponti and Sviatoslav Richter. II:10, Feroce, energico. Octaves in both hands with rapid, upward-sweeping arpeggios in between. Several pianists have rhythmic problems here. II:11 Vivace. Exceedingly difficult alternation of octaves and single notes in both hands. and Finale.) Presto, ma non troppo. Scherzando. A delightful ending to the Second Book. The simplistic opening built around a descending scale soon leads into a colourful double-note section. Some unison writing with dangerous leaps follows, and, finally, a triumphant 6/8 section full of chords and octaves. One bad performance habit that has almost become the norm is a tempo reduction at the start of the 6/8 section. His second recording (1925) is basically complete although he skips some repeats, including one that is written out in full, and he takes the fermata cut in the Book 1 Finale Allegro. Everything from rapid passagework, leaps, repeated notes, broken octaves, trills and tremolo-like figures is thrown at the pianist in this bravura and very notey ending to the First Book. Several pianists choose to jump to the first variation of Book 2 upon reaching the fermata that marks the half-way point (henceforth referred to as the fermata cut). . Four years later he recorded the work yet again, this time via the electrical process. In all three versions one can hear the technique that left pianists “in breathless astonishment and envy and despair” (Chasins, Speaking of Pianists, New York: 1957), but his playing is also frustratingly wooden. Backhaus never bares his soul and seems to thumb his nose at Brahms whenever expression is called for.

The Variations from completists

In this age of completeness where record labels are constantly churning out the total output of one composer after another, it is not surprising that several Paganini Variations can be found among these complete sets. Many of these readings rank among the least inspired on record. Martin Jones’s playing has little dynamic variety or colour, along with several technical flaws. Nimbus’s horribly echoey ambience does little to help, making this one to avoid. Walter Klien also gives an uninspired reading in his complete set for Vox. He sounds strained throughout and is not particularly musical. Peter Rösel, however, offers a very secure, respectable reading. Difficult variations are tossed off with great aplomb, and he captures the spirit of most variations. Returning to the mundane, we have Gerhard Oppitz’s rendition, with clunky, ugly left-hand staccato notes in I:10 Sotto voce. This variation requires a different touch and articulation in each hand. The right plays a syncopated legato melody while the left plays ascending staccato notes which eventually cross above the right hand. and a I:11 Andante espressivo. The music-box variation. The harmonies in the second half are as eloquent and tender as any Brahms wrote. that is slow and boring. Detlef Kraus rushes from one variation to the next with little rhythmic annoyances throughout and a general lethargy.

André De Groote fares much better in his generally musical version. The theme is nice and crisp, and there are some admirable dynamic shadings and colourings in the successive variations.

Two decades before her complete Brahms for Naxos, Idil Biret recorded a fairly odd version for Vega in which she whispers through the work, rarely rising above a mezzo-forte. Her recording for Naxos is almost as strange and features some of the most comically exaggerated point-making in the last bars of the Finale. Presto, ma non troppo. Scherzando. A delightful ending to the Second Book. The simplistic opening built around a descending scale soon leads into a colourful double-note section. Some unison writing with dangerous leaps follows, and, finally, a triumphant 6/8 section full of chords and octaves. One bad performance habit that has almost become the norm is a tempo reduction at the start of the 6/8 section. Another disappointment comes from Shoko Sugitani, who adopts slow tempos and struggles badly in the more challenging variations. Andrea Bonatta‘s recording has some interesting details, among which are some amazing pianissimo glissandos, but it is too inconsistent for a solid recommendation.

Lastly, there is Julius Katchen’s highly regarded complete set. Technically, his version is among the most impressive ever recorded. Tempos are very fast and difficulties don’t seem to exist for him. Few can match his virtuosity in II:1 One of the most exhausting and technique-oriented of them all. Fiendish double note passages are tossed from one hand to the other. and II:11 Vivace. Exceedingly difficult alternation of octaves and single notes in both hands. or in either finale, but after a while this constant bravura detracts from the overall impression. I:3 A difficult variation full of repeated notes and leaping arpeggios in contrary motion. To complicate matters further, both hands compete for the same space. , for example, has little charm or sparkle when taken so briskly, and II:3 A bouncing staccato bass (patterned after Schumann’s F-sharp minor Piano Sonata) with humorous offbeat sforzandos is contrasted with the right hand’s charming octaves and thirds. sounds rushed rather than witty. Few are aware of Katchen’s other recording for Decca, made six years earlier. The blueprint is virtually the same, but the overall results are more satisfying due to the slightly slower tempos and less frenetic approach.

Though they have not recorded the complete Brahms, Josep Colom and Ian Hobson have both set down the complete variations of Brahms. Colom’s reading is full of exaggerated ritardandos and even has a few misreadings while Hobson turns in a very routine performance with little direction, energy, or variety.

Surprises pleasant and otherwise

In addition to the previously mentioned Antoniades, several other pianists who are now well-known have fine versions to their credit. The late David Parkhouse exhibits superb musicianship in his outstanding recording for Saga. Technique is present in ample quantity, yet it never overshadows the music. Rarely have the polyrhythmic complexities of II:7 A polyrhythmic nightmare! The pianist must contend with rhythms pitting four notes against nine, eight against nine, and in the second half, nine against four. As if this were not enough, Brahms adds an awkward counter-melody to the mixture. been handled with such attention to shape and direction, or I:5 Espressivo. The first real test of the pianist’s musicianship. Some cross-rhythms, cross-phrasing and hand crossings are present, but the bigger challenge is in handling Brahms’s brooding, passionate, polyphonic writing. with such tenderness. This gratifying version is one of the best on record. Milan Klíčníc gives a refined and tonally beautiful edition. A little understated in the Finale Allegro. Everything from rapid passagework, leaps, repeated notes, broken octaves, trills and tremolo-like figures is thrown at the pianist in this bravura and very notey ending to the First Book. Several pianists choose to jump to the first variation of Book 2 upon reaching the fermata that marks the half-way point (henceforth referred to as the fermata cut). perhaps, but otherwise enjoyable. Mikhail Faerman’s is all the more impressive considering that it is a live performance. He projects and shapes the left hand sixths of I:2 Here the sixths appear in the left hand against octaves (often with filled-in third or sixth) in the right hand. all the while adhering to Brahms’s hairpin dynamic markings. Each variation flows naturally into the next, making his a particularly well thought out interpretation. Another lesser-known name, Gábor Gabos, gives a spirited albeit sparsely pedalled performance. This occasionally gives a mechanical edge to his playing ( II:7 A polyrhythmic nightmare! The pianist must contend with rhythms pitting four notes against nine, eight against nine, and in the second half, nine against four. As if this were not enough, Brahms adds an awkward counter-melody to the mixture. and II:11 Vivace. Exceedingly difficult alternation of octaves and single notes in both hands. for instance) but is quite characterful elsewhere ( I:13 Vivace e scherzando. Reminiscent of a Hungarian dance, a spirited display of awkward grace notes, octaves and octave glissandos in the right hand. Many pianists take the liberty of starting the final glissando an octave higher for added effect. ).

One of the most disappointing readings comes from a pianist who is a household name. There are few things more depressing than hearing a struggling icon well past his prime, but that is the impression left by Sviatoslav Richter in his 1988 recording. I:8 A combination of octaves, thirds and leaps in both hands; Brahms made a crucial handwritten correction at the end of the first phrase and in its subsequent repeat, substituting a rest in place of the D-sharp octave found in some editions. This rest makes complete musical sense as it clearly separates the two phrases. Several editions, including Henle, Dover, Breitkopf & Härtel, and International print this revision, yet less than half of the pianists surveyed play the corrected version. is a disaster, with almost every bass missed; the Finale (Book 1) Allegro. Everything from rapid passagework, leaps, repeated notes, broken octaves, trills and tremolo-like figures is thrown at the pianist in this bravura and very notey ending to the First Book. Several pianists choose to jump to the first variation of Book 2 upon reaching the fermata that marks the half-way point (henceforth referred to as the fermata cut). has torrents of wrong notes, and he almost comes off the rails in II:1 One of the most exhausting and technique-oriented of them all. Fiendish double note passages are tossed from one hand to the other. , II:8 Allegro. A violinistic effect is created by the rapid, widely spaced contrary-motion arpeggios and the quasi pizzicato notes that follow. Also present is a rarely played ossia which can be heard in the recordings by Kaya Han, Ian Hobson, Louis Kentner, Evgeni Kissin, Hiromi Okada, Nicolai Petrov, Michael Ponti and Sviatoslav Richter. , and Finale (Book 2) Presto, ma non troppo. Scherzando. A delightful ending to the Second Book. The simplistic opening built around a descending scale soon leads into a colourful double-note section. Some unison writing with dangerous leaps follows, and, finally, a triumphant 6/8 section full of chords and octaves. One bad performance habit that has almost become the norm is a tempo reduction at the start of the 6/8 section. . However, an entry in Richter’s recently published diaries shows that he was all too aware of these faults and never wanted the recording published:

“Recording of the Philips collection, Brahms, Variations on a Theme by Paganini: It would have been better if this recording had never seen the light of day… The project of Philips, which consisted of releasing a number of my recordings (supposedly authorised by me… with a reproduction of my signature on the cover of the booklet), recordings I have never listened to, this is more than questionable… It is a scandal.”

(Richter, Écrits, p. 405, translated from the French; ellipses as published.)

A comparison against several unofficially taped performances serves only to confirm that this was a particularly bad occasion for Richter.

Richter is not the only pianist to struggle with this difficult work. Jan Smeterlin‘s technical problems are evident as early as the opening theme, and much of Book I is seriously compromised. In Book II he fares a little better, if only because he skips Variations II:1 One of the most exhausting and technique-oriented of them all. Fiendish double note passages are tossed from one hand to the other. , II:5 Dolce. Light and delicate triplets scurry down the keyboard, contrasting with a simple dotted rhythm melody in the upper part. , II:8 Allegro. A violinistic effect is created by the rapid, widely spaced contrary-motion arpeggios and the quasi pizzicato notes that follow. Also present is a rarely played ossia which can be heard in the recordings by Kaya Han, Ian Hobson, Louis Kentner, Evgeni Kissin, Hiromi Okada, Nicolai Petrov, Michael Ponti and Sviatoslav Richter. , and II:9. Both hands play unison single notes and octaves. Probably the least interesting of all the variations. Friedrich Wührer makes a gallant effort but falls far short of the mark, instead sounding heavy handed and slow. Paul Bisaccia shouldn’t have bothered to record the work; his technique is simply not up to the task and much of the playing is shockingly dishevelled.

Technical wizardry

At the other end of the spectrum there are those who astound technically, often going beyond what one imagined possible, but who disappoint on a musical level.

The recording by the late Italian pianist Sergio Fiorentino unfortunately falls into this category. The ease with which he blazes through the more difficult variations is jaw-dropping. II:7 A polyrhythmic nightmare! The pianist must contend with rhythms pitting four notes against nine, eight against nine, and in the second half, nine against four. As if this were not enough, Brahms adds an awkward counter-melody to the mixture. receives its fastest performance ever, and II:1 One of the most exhausting and technique-oriented of them all. Fiendish double note passages are tossed from one hand to the other. is almost grotesque in its speed. Oddly, on three occasions Fiorentino actually adds repeats where none are indicated ( I:7 Contrary-motion octaves alternate with contrary-motion double-notes. , II:1 One of the most exhausting and technique-oriented of them all. Fiendish double note passages are tossed from one hand to the other. , and II:13 Un poco più andante. Poco espressivo. A descending theme in eighth notes is linked with a moving alto voice in sixteenths. ). Matti Raekallio seems intent on showing how fast he can play the variations. This time it is II:1 One of the most exhausting and technique-oriented of them all. Fiendish double note passages are tossed from one hand to the other. where the world record is broken. Hiromi Okada‘s performance took place during an international competition and it sounds like it. There is little insight to be found in this fast, aggressive reading. Giorgia Tomassi couples her variations with the 24 Chopin Études. If those did not make us aware of her commanding technique, the Paganini Variations certainly do. Despite its acclaim, I also place Evgeny Kissin’s recording in this category, finding it heavy on technique but slight on musicality. One cannot fault him for trying, but his expressive moments instead come out sounding fussy and mannered (try I:12 Molto dolce. A simple melodic motive in the left hand is decorated by filigree in the right. Cross-phrasing is also a prominent feature. for some truly tiresome rubato), and the sound he creates is rather clinical, lacking in both colour and variety.

From the dull to the eccentric

Virtuosic recordings like the ones above are still preferable to those that are simply boring. John Lill sleepwalks through the variations with hardly any build-up, direction, or inflection. Andor Földes not only lacks excitement but also suffers from technical difficulties. Kaya Han sounds tired right from the opening theme. François-René Duchable is not so much boring as run of the mill; the technique is adequate but the musicianship ordinary. Such faint praise cannot be bestowed upon Colette Fernier’s recording. Her playing is especially strained and totally lacking in bravura. Boris Petrushansky is more annoying than boring. His dragging out of II:4 Poco allegretto. Con grazia. A graceful waltz reminiscent of old Vienna. A successful rendition requires a certain stylistic lilt from the performer. is unbearable; I:11 Andante espressivo. The music-box variation. The harmonies in the second half are as eloquent and tender as any Brahms wrote. is full of fussy agogic hesitations, and I:12 Molto dolce. A simple melodic motive in the left hand is decorated by filigree in the right. Cross-phrasing is also a prominent feature. gets more and more mannered as it goes on. In fairness, it must be mentioned that his II:13 Un poco più andante. Poco espressivo. A descending theme in eighth notes is linked with a moving alto voice in sixteenths. is the best of all surveyed, flowing beautifully and with a revealing accentuation of the tenor line just prior to the final four bars. Anatoly Vedernikov is yet another disappointment. With little dynamic variety and lacklustre phrasing, he leaves a less than pleasing impression. His rendering of passages in II:4 Poco allegretto. Con grazia. A graceful waltz reminiscent of old Vienna. A successful rendition requires a certain stylistic lilt from the performer. an octave lower than written does little to improve his standing.

Much more satisfying are the versions by Rosen, Janssen, Zilberstein, Sherman, Thiollier, and Ohlsson. Charles Rosen handles mood changes exceptionally well and his glissandos are fantastic. He does, however, disappoint slightly in the virtuosic variations that open both books. Ivo Janssen is at his best in the introspective and expressive variations; once past the opening two variations his recording is pleasing. Lilya Zilberstein is a little uneven, occasionally resorting to banging, as in II:9 Both hands play unison single notes and octaves. Probably the least interesting of all the variations. , but rendering the theme beautifully and adequately handling all the technical difficulties. Her live Book II recorded shortly after her success in the 1987 Busoni Competition sounds crass by comparison. Russell Sherman offers a well-balanced mixture of bravura and musicality. The sonorities in I:10 Sotto voce. This variation requires a different touch and articulation in each hand. The right plays a syncopated legato melody while the left plays ascending staccato notes which eventually cross above the right hand. are beautifully cushioned, and I:11 Andante espressivo. The music-box variation. The harmonies in the second half are as eloquent and tender as any Brahms wrote. features some lovely legato and phrasing. François-Joël Thiollier’s reading is reasonably sensitive and he also copes well with mood changes, but his rubato at phrase endings is overdone and soon becomes predictable. ’s recording is extremely fine, only just falling short of the highest recommendation.

In a different class altogether are several highly eccentric versions. György Cziffra approaches the work like a “salon piece,” taking liberties and adding to the text in a wholly inappropriate manner. Such playing does little to dispel the myth that he could not play serious music. Mikhail Lidsky’s reading is comically slow and heavy-handed, lending itself to such imagery as a hippopotamus sinking in quicksand. If you’ve always wondered what the Paganini Variations would sound like without pedal, then Nikolai Petrov is your man. After a humorously dry opening he settles into a reading full of bizarre rubato and questionable tempo changes. Tamás Vásáry utilizes strange articulations, pedallings, and dynamics throughout. The balance employed in I:3 A difficult variation full of repeated notes and leaping arpeggios in contrary motion. To complicate matters further, both hands compete for the same space. and II:10 Feroce, energico. Octaves in both hands with rapid, upward-sweeping arpeggios in between. Several pianists have rhythmic problems here. is utterly ridiculous. All of these readings, however, are quite sane in comparison to Mordecai Shehori’s systematic sabotage of the work. His obscenely slow tempos and disdain for bravura, coupled with layer upon layer of perverse eccentricities make this a reading more suitable for a funeral parlour than the concert stage.

Michelangeli and CO.

No pianist of modern times has been more closely associated with the Paganini Variations than Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli, with his five recorded versions spanning forty years. His 1948 recording for EMI has only rarely been out of the catalogue and is considered by many to be the reference recording. Fine as his playing is, with Michelangeli one has to accept certain idiosyncracies. First of all there is the Michelangeli ordering. He sometimes made slight changes to this formula, but on most occasions he played the variations in the following sequence: I:1–12; II:1 One of the most exhausting and technique-oriented of them all. Fiendish double note passages are tossed from one hand to the other. , II:2 Poco animato. Espressivo. An abrupt change of mood from the previous variation. A beautiful, yet somewhat agitato long-phrased melody in legato octaves is supported by widely stretched arpeggios in the left hand. , II:5 Dolce. Light and delicate triplets scurry down the keyboard, contrasting with a simple dotted rhythm melody in the upper part. , II:6 Poco più vivace. Straightforward arpeggios are transformed into one of the more entertaining moments of the piece by the addition of grace notes. For whatever reason, there is no repeat marked for the first half, but it seems clearly indicated since it occurs in every other variation without exception. Only Idil Biret on Vega, François-René Duchable, Elzbieta Glabowna, Walter Klien, Karlrobert Kreiten, Jacob Lateiner and Kurt Leimer omit this repeat, thus demonstrating literalness at its worst. , II:7 A polyrhythmic nightmare! The pianist must contend with rhythms pitting four notes against nine, eight against nine, and in the second half, nine against four. As if this were not enough, Brahms adds an awkward counter-melody to the mixture. , II:8 Allegro. A violinistic effect is created by the rapid, widely spaced contrary-motion arpeggios and the quasi pizzicato notes that follow. Also present is a rarely played ossia which can be heard in the recordings by Kaya Han, Ian Hobson, Louis Kentner, Evgeni Kissin, Hiromi Okada, Nicolai Petrov, Michael Ponti and Sviatoslav Richter. , II:10 Feroce, energico. Octaves in both hands with rapid, upward-sweeping arpeggios in between. Several pianists have rhythmic problems here. , II:11 Vivace. Exceedingly difficult alternation of octaves and single notes in both hands. , II:12 Un poco andante. Dolce espressivo. The key of F major brings us one of Brahms’s most beautiful creations. A captivating, deeply expressive theme floats over a flowing arpeggio accompaniment. , II:13 Un poco più andante. Poco espressivo. A descending theme in eighth notes is linked with a moving alto voice in sixteenths. , II:3 A bouncing staccato bass (patterned after Schumann’s F-sharp minor Piano Sonata) with humorous offbeat sforzandos is contrasted with the right hand’s charming octaves and thirds. , II:4 Poco allegretto. Con grazia. A graceful waltz reminiscent of old Vienna. A successful rendition requires a certain stylistic lilt from the performer. ; I:13 Vivace e scherzando. Reminiscent of a Hungarian dance, a spirited display of awkward grace notes, octaves and octave glissandos in the right hand. Many pianists take the liberty of starting the final glissando an octave higher for added effect. and abridged Finale (Book 1) Allegro. Everything from rapid passagework, leaps, repeated notes, broken octaves, trills and tremolo-like figures is thrown at the pianist in this bravura and very notey ending to the First Book. Several pianists choose to jump to the first variation of Book 2 upon reaching the fermata that marks the half-way point (henceforth referred to as the fermata cut). from presto on. Ironically, only one of the five recorded versions precisely follows this blueprint. Other immediately recognisable “Michelangelian” liberties include straightening out the dotted rhythm in the last measures of the theme, simplifying the rhythm in I:8 A combination of octaves, thirds and leaps in both hands; Brahms made a crucial handwritten correction at the end of the first phrase and in its subsequent repeat, substituting a rest in place of the D-sharp octave found in some editions. This rest makes complete musical sense as it clearly separates the two phrases. Several editions, including Henle, Dover, Breitkopf & Härtel, and International print this revision, yet less than half of the pianists surveyed play the corrected version. so as to allow more time for the left hand’s wide leaps, and playing the opening measures of II:13 Un poco più andante. Poco espressivo. A descending theme in eighth notes is linked with a moving alto voice in sixteenths. much louder and faster than the rest of the variation. A comparison of his five versions finds a sense of icy detachment throughout his 1948 studio recording, which varies slightly from the blueprint with the omission of I:9. The trick here is to play legato octaves and chords in one hand while playing repeated-note octaves in the other hand. His glissandos are miraculous though, with the last incredibly soft and even, seemingly defying the possibilities of the instrument. His live 1955 performance from Warsaw is less satisfying. Several repeats are omitted at random, and the coolness of the performance is even more pronounced.

Michelangeli’s best recorded performance is the one from 1952, live in Italy. Here the maestro is in a far more expressive mood, and technically this one outclasses all of his others. Some unique touches are present, such as the accenting of the low bass notes in I:6, Syncopated octaves with added third or sixth in the right hand against an ostinato-like octave pattern with tricky leaps in the left hand. and as an added treat the entire opening section of the Finale (Book 1) Allegro. Everything from rapid passagework, leaps, repeated notes, broken octaves, trills and tremolo-like figures is thrown at the pianist in this bravura and very notey ending to the First Book. Several pianists choose to jump to the first variation of Book 2 upon reaching the fermata that marks the half-way point (henceforth referred to as the fermata cut). is played (upon reaching the fermata he makes his standard cut to the presto section). A later live performance from 1973 is decidedly less fiery, although the glissandos are as impressive as ever. Tempos are slower than usual, and the playing gives the impression of a bored performer. II:11 Vivace. Exceedingly difficult alternation of octaves and single notes in both hands. is dropped, as had become customary for Michelangeli at this later stage of his career. By 1988, the pianist was but a shadow of his former self, and his performance from that year is best taken as a nostalgic tribute to the man who made this piece his own and thrilled generations of listeners with his pianistic accomplishments. Interestingly, in this very late reading Michelangeli abandons his customary reordering and simply plays the two books in order, excluding only II:9 Both hands play unison single notes and octaves. Probably the least interesting of all the variations. , II:11 Vivace. Exceedingly difficult alternation of octaves and single notes in both hands. , and Finale (Book 2) Presto, ma non troppo. Scherzando. A delightful ending to the Second Book. The simplistic opening built around a descending scale soon leads into a colourful double-note section. Some unison writing with dangerous leaps follows, and, finally, a triumphant 6/8 section full of chords and octaves. One bad performance habit that has almost become the norm is a tempo reduction at the start of the 6/8 section. , but ending with the Finale (Book 1) Allegro. Everything from rapid passagework, leaps, repeated notes, broken octaves, trills and tremolo-like figures is thrown at the pianist in this bravura and very notey ending to the First Book. Several pianists choose to jump to the first variation of Book 2 upon reaching the fermata that marks the half-way point (henceforth referred to as the fermata cut). played in its entirety.

A number of other pianists have made multiple recordings of the Paganini Variations, and it is often illuminating to compare their differing versions. Géza Anda’s live 1952 recording is unexceptional and flat. In I:10 Sotto voce. This variation requires a different touch and articulation in each hand. The right plays a syncopated legato melody while the left plays ascending staccato notes which eventually cross above the right hand. he perversely exaggerates the left-hand staccato notes, and he drops several repeats. His EMI studio recording fares a little better. Abbey Simon’s Vox recording is very fine, with many interesting ideas. He accentuates the alto in II:13 Un poco più andante. Poco espressivo. A descending theme in eighth notes is linked with a moving alto voice in sixteenths. , creating an agreeable effect, and starts II:9 Both hands play unison single notes and octaves. Probably the least interesting of all the variations. pianissimo, slowly building to an effective climax. His earlier version for Epic is better technically but less convincing musically. Michael Ponti’s live recording for Vox is most unpleasant. He rushes and bangs his way through the piece, dropping several variations along the way and gives the impression that he is late for an appointment elsewhere. His relatively ordinary performance on Meridian sounds wonderful in comparison. A fair comparison cannot be made of Elisabeth Leonskaja’s two recordings, as her earlier one appears on a competition highlights record and abruptly cuts off after I:7 Contrary-motion octaves alternate with contrary-motion double-notes. . What little we hear sounds impressive and spirited. Her Teldec recording is less attractive and at times eccentric. Santiago Rodriguez’s two recordings are diametrically opposed. The musicality of his earlier reading immediately grabs one’s attention. It has personality, direction, imagination, and shows a keen ear for detail. If not for the strange placement of I:13 Vivace e scherzando. Reminiscent of a Hungarian dance, a spirited display of awkward grace notes, octaves and octave glissandos in the right hand. Many pianists take the liberty of starting the final glissando an octave higher for added effect. after II:4 Poco allegretto. Con grazia. A graceful waltz reminiscent of old Vienna. A successful rendition requires a certain stylistic lilt from the performer. and an odd finale which combines bits from both finales, this version would garner a solid recommendation. His more recent recording for Elan seems to take only that which was eccentric in the earlier version as a starting ground. To begin Book II he reharmonizes much of the theme; he decides to play I:8 A combination of octaves, thirds and leaps in both hands; Brahms made a crucial handwritten correction at the end of the first phrase and in its subsequent repeat, substituting a rest in place of the D-sharp octave found in some editions. This rest makes complete musical sense as it clearly separates the two phrases. Several editions, including Henle, Dover, Breitkopf & Härtel, and International print this revision, yet less than half of the pianists surveyed play the corrected version. before I:6 Syncopated octaves with added third or sixth in the right hand against an ostinato-like octave pattern with tricky leaps in the left hand. and I:7, Contrary-motion octaves alternate with contrary-motion double-notes. and he again uses a finale that employs material from both books.

High-fliers and crash-landings

Turning away from the bizarre, the eccentric, and the disappointing, there are a few recordings which stand head and shoulders above the rest. Agustin Anievas’s interpretation is full of freshness, virtuosity, and beauty. Right from the theme one senses a creative mind at work. I:3 A difficult variation full of repeated notes and leaping arpeggios in contrary motion. To complicate matters further, both hands compete for the same space. is electrifying in its imaginative voicing and tonal control, whereas I:5 Espressivo. The first real test of the pianist’s musicianship. Some cross-rhythms, cross-phrasing and hand crossings are present, but the bigger challenge is in handling Brahms’s brooding, passionate, polyphonic writing. is heart-rending. This high level is not attained in every variation (the two finales could be better), but for all its creative energy this is a recording worthy of high praise. Sadly, although EMI has reissued much of its Anievas back catalogue, it has managed to overlook his two best records—the Brahms Variations and Chopin Études. Another thrilling rendition comes from Minoru Nojima. The theme and opening variations are played with real flair. His II:7 A polyrhythmic nightmare! The pianist must contend with rhythms pitting four notes against nine, eight against nine, and in the second half, nine against four. As if this were not enough, Brahms adds an awkward counter-melody to the mixture. surpasses all other versions, as does his II:5 Dolce. Light and delicate triplets scurry down the keyboard, contrasting with a simple dotted rhythm melody in the upper part. , and in I:13 Vivace e scherzando. Reminiscent of a Hungarian dance, a spirited display of awkward grace notes, octaves and octave glissandos in the right hand. Many pianists take the liberty of starting the final glissando an octave higher for added effect. he dances up a storm. Of those available on CD, Jean-Yves Thibaudet offers one of the most consistently satisfying readings; there is little to find fault with here. II:10 Feroce, energico. Octaves in both hands with rapid, upward-sweeping arpeggios in between. Several pianists have rhythmic problems here. has a grand sweep to it and II:8 Allegro. A violinistic effect is created by the rapid, widely spaced contrary-motion arpeggios and the quasi pizzicato notes that follow. Also present is a rarely played ossia which can be heard in the recordings by Kaya Han, Ian Hobson, Louis Kentner, Evgeni Kissin, Hiromi Okada, Nicolai Petrov, Michael Ponti and Sviatoslav Richter. is scintillatingly crisp. All the variations range from good to excellent, although he perhaps lacks that last ounce of creativity as found in Anievas at his best. Another fine version on CD is that by Cécile Ousset. Her playing is consistently musical without in any way downplaying the work’s bravura. She phrases the theme as well as anyone, and her I:9 The trick here is to play legato octaves and chords in one hand while playing repeated-note octaves in the other hand. and I:10 Sotto voce. This variation requires a different touch and articulation in each hand. The right plays a syncopated legato melody while the left plays ascending staccato notes which eventually cross above the right hand. are especially well played thanks in part to her lovely pianissimos. Victor Merzhanov also distinguishes himself in the Paganini Variations: here is a pianist not afraid to take risks. There are some technical smudges, but these are hardly worth mentioning within the scope of this brilliant, edge-of-one’s-seat rendition.

Most of the remaining performances do not easily fall into any one category, although a few are just plain bad – Sylvia Kersenbaum, Fernando Lopes (his 5/8 rendition of II:10 Feroce, energico. Octaves in both hands with rapid, upward-sweeping arpeggios in between. Several pianists have rhythmic problems here. is particularly noteworthy), Dmitry Sgouros, and Florence Soon-Kin-Wong. Some are so uneven they are hard to sum up. Claudio Arrau, for example, sounds ordinary much of the time, but his II:12 Un poco andante. Dolce espressivo. The key of F major brings us one of Brahms’s most beautiful creations. A captivating, deeply expressive theme floats over a flowing arpeggio accompaniment. is as beautiful as any recorded. Gary Graffman’s performance is virtuosic, energetic, and crisp, but has a certain rawness bordering on savagery at times. Shura Cherkassky’s performance on Nimbus is even more difficult to summarise. There is no question that he has his problems (a memory slip in the Book II Finale Presto, ma non troppo. Scherzando. A delightful ending to the Second Book. The simplistic opening built around a descending scale soon leads into a colourful double-note section. Some unison writing with dangerous leaps follows, and, finally, a triumphant 6/8 section full of chords and octaves. One bad performance habit that has almost become the norm is a tempo reduction at the start of the 6/8 section. is especially sad), and he is decidedly eccentric at times, but if one is willing to put up with these things there are a few beautiful moments.

Earl Wild gives a mischievous performance, but the recorded sound unfairly compromises his tone. Iso Elinson plays sensitively and brings attention to some interesting inner voices, but the numerous dropped notes and technical flaws compromise the reading. Constance Keene’s rendition is by turn understated and overstated. Her recording omits I:4 A trill study for the weakest fingers of the right hand. , I:8 A combination of octaves, thirds and leaps in both hands; Brahms made a crucial handwritten correction at the end of the first phrase and in its subsequent repeat, substituting a rest in place of the D-sharp octave found in some editions. This rest makes complete musical sense as it clearly separates the two phrases. Several editions, including Henle, Dover, Breitkopf & Härtel, and International print this revision, yet less than half of the pianists surveyed play the corrected version. , and Finale (Book 1) Allegro. Everything from rapid passagework, leaps, repeated notes, broken octaves, trills and tremolo-like figures is thrown at the pianist in this bravura and very notey ending to the First Book. Several pianists choose to jump to the first variation of Book 2 upon reaching the fermata that marks the half-way point (henceforth referred to as the fermata cut). , and II:7 A polyrhythmic nightmare! The pianist must contend with rhythms pitting four notes against nine, eight against nine, and in the second half, nine against four. As if this were not enough, Brahms adds an awkward counter-melody to the mixture. and II:9 Both hands play unison single notes and octaves. Probably the least interesting of all the variations. . Lev Vlassenko is loud and inexpressive in Book I but impressive in Book II. Alexander Shtarkman plays the Variations in the “version Michelangeli,” but it is doubtful if the late Italian would be flattered by this bangy, rushed, pedestrian performance. Robert Goldsand’s recording is a true enigma. He sounds tired, slow, and strained in I:1 An immediate test of the pianist’s technique. Sixths in the right hand are soon pitted against thirds in the left hand. and I:2 Here the sixths appear in the left hand against octaves (often with filled-in third or sixth) in the right hand. yet manages to dispatch the fearsome II:11 Vivace. Exceedingly difficult alternation of octaves and single notes in both hands. in a most impressive manner. Adam Harasiewicz plays musically in one variation then mechanically in the next, and while Sasha Gorodnitzky’s playing has personality, his recording features the worst-sounding instrument of the lot.

There are still several recordings of a single book not yet mentioned, but surprisingly, very few of these are noteworthy. Emil Gilels is clearly past his prime and has trouble in both of his Book I recordings. Moura Lympany is disappointingly vertical in Book II, although her II:9 Both hands play unison single notes and octaves. Probably the least interesting of all the variations. is the fastest ever and completely convincing at that tempo! Gina Bachauer’s Book II comes across as heavy-handed and full of accents. Nicolas Angelich bangs his way through Book I in yet another competition performance. In fact, it is Sergei Tarasov’s Book I on ABC — live from the 1996 Sydney Piano Competition — that rises above the others (his MCA recording is less enjoyable).

Top Recommendations

The experience of listening ‘blind’ to so many recordings has been a refreshing reminder of how bias and received opinion can unfairly slant one’s judgement. Several world-class pianists were surpassed by lesser-knowns, and even among my own recommendations came several surprises (including one pianist whom I had always disliked in the past). Choosing the very best Brahms Paganini Variations recording is an impossibility, as the outstanding recordings are all so different and meritorious in their own ways. I instead list the nine versions which brought me the most enjoyment and to which I have since returned time and time again: Agustin Anievas, Mikhail Faerman, Louis Kentner, Victor Merzhanov, Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli (1952), Minoru Nojima, Cécile Ousset, David Parkhouse, and Jean-Yves Thibaudet.