SOLER Keyboard Sonatas: in g, S. R. 87; in D, S. R. 84; in g. SCHUMANN Faschingschwank aus Wien, op. 26. ALBÉNIZ Suite Iberia, Bk. 3. Suite Iberia, Bk. 4: Eritaña • Alicia de Larrocha (pn) • RTVE 65235 (61:45) Live: Madrid 11/8/1988

Strange, revisiting the very first concert pianist one ever heard. Many more years ago than I care to admit to, Alicia de Larrocha played Beethoven’s Third Concerto with the Hallé Orchestra in Manchester’s Free Trade Hall—sitting in the back was yours truly (we’re talking around early 1980s, possibly even before). Our paths have not crossed too many times in the interim, so it is with even more pleasure than usual that I approached the present offering for this august journal.

This recital was taken down live in the Sala de Cámara in the Auditorio Nacional de Música in Madrid in 1988. It is Volume 4 in RTVE’s “Grandes Pianistas Españoles.” The program is exquisitely balanced, starting with music by Antonio Soler (1729–1783). Too often viewed as an alternative to Domenico Scarlatti, Larrocha plays Soler’s Sonatas with real affection (a trait that oozes out of the initial offering, almost stately, with warm tone in an equally warm recorded ambience). Interestingly, Larrocha cannot be accused of inauthenticity. The D Major brings pure joy, with its gossamer textures and simply superb staccato, while the minor mode twinges of the final G Minor bring the group to an appropriate close.

Faschingschwank reveals Larrocha’s strengths and weaknesses in Schumann ideally. There is superb definition here, and on more than one occasion, I wondered if this really is live, given the assurance of it all. And yet, perhaps the accuracy comes as a result of being rather careful—the opening Allegro is not particularly celebratory, and repeated chords verge on the literal. If Larrocha shows her powers of emotional projection from the very start of the Romanze (drawing the listener in from the first note), a rather leaden Scherzino and the low level of turbulence she brings to the Intermezzo contribute to the rather confused picture this reading projects. The ebb and flow that Larrocha brings carefully reflects a structural awareness that this pianist seems at pains to project—perhaps too much so, in fact.

What a difference a geographical shift makes! Albéniz’s music is of course in Larrocha’s blood, and the sheer sense of being on home ground is almost overwhelming. The almost hesitant beginning of “El Albaicín” already reveals the hands of a master; the simple octave melodies, tellingly, seem to speak with layered meaning. Larrocha’s Wunder-staccato for “El polo” is entirely in keeping with the playful nature of this piece (there is quasi-intoxicated haze about some of this that is most atmospheric), while “Lavapiés” dances infectiously (revel in that staccato again at the chords just before the very end!).

“Eritaña” must have been an encore, and what an encore! Outgoing, fun, this is a wonderful example of just what this pianist can still do. A first-cousin to Debussy’s “Puck”—with Larrocha letting her hair down—is pure joy.

Notes are, alas, Spanish-only (“alas,” because they seem remarkably detailed). But it is the Albéniz that makes this a mandatory purchase for pianophiles.

FANFARE: Colin Clarke