Gyorgy Cziffra in Tokyo, 1964 = CHOPIN: Fantasie in F Minor, Op. 49; Scherzo No. 2 in B-flat Minor, Op. 31; Grand Valse brillante in E-flat Major , Op. 18; Valse brillante in F Major, Op. 34, No. 3; Impromptu No. 3 in G-flat Major, Op. 51; Ballade No. 4 in F Minor, Op. 52; Polonaise in A-flat Major, Op. 53 “Heroic”; LISZT: Rhapsodie espagnole; Polonaise No. 2 in E Major; Grand Galop chromatique; Hungarian Rhapsody No. 6 in D-flat Major – Georges Cziffra, piano
Medici Arts MM033-2, 79:51 [Distr. by Naxos] ****:
Hungarian pianist Gyorgy Cziffra (1921-1994) remains a controversial, cult figure in music; and for many auditors he remains an anachronism in music, a throwback to the self-inflated, titanic virtuoso who made music a vehicle for his own ego-gratification. For those who admire him, Cziffra endures as a conscientious, charismatic genius who worked demonically and unceasingly to perfect a dazzling technique in the cause of artistic truth. Cziffra sojourned to Japan four times: in 1964, 1967, 1977, and 1980, where he acquainted himself with the Yamaha instruments which were to monopolize his color efforts after 1967. The present Tokyo recital–part of which was made available on the “Cziffra Live in Japan” CD through the Gyorgy Cziffra Society–derives from a recital given 23 April 1964. In the Tokyo press, Cziffra won acclaim as Liszt incarnate.
The first part of the program Cziffra devotes to Chopin, a composer whose innate bel canto singing line appealed to the pianist’s own temperament, which loved rubato and plastic adjustments within the bar-line while insisting on a solid, rhythmical foundation over the whole. Constant adjustment for color places Cziffra in the same school that produced a very different personality in Gieseking, but to the same idiosyncratic, expressive ends. The Fantasie of Chopin and the ensuing Scherzo are subjected to tugs of will and mercurial frenzy, but the cumulative effect never ceases to be as dramatic as it is digitally exciting. When put on the defensive about his comparatively normal hands, Cziffra would reply, “Yes, but my muscles. . .” Those extraordinary biceps and wrists allow Cziffra infinite degrees of pianissimo as well as stunning fortes, and his metrical sense has at his disposal his gypsy blood. The E-flat Waltz traverses the salon and the gutter at once, as sensual as it is elegant. Ever audacious, Cziffra is never tedious. Brilliance mates with mischief in the F Major Waltz, a dazzlingly skittish realization on ice skates. Irreverent, yes, but try any of these eminently musical impertinences yourself! For exquisitely chiseled ornamentation, the G-flat Impromptu accents Cziffra’s most natural gambit, variation–since nothing is more foreign to his nature than strict repetition.
Cziffra saves two big works for last: the haunted, melancholy Ballade in F Minor and the eponymous Heroic Polonaise. The Polonaise has only one meaning: the birth of national pride in the human breast, whatever the creed. Here, it is the artist’s own, confident banner that triumphs in glowing octaves over all nation-states. Certainly Cziffra’s Ballade tells a story, a struggle of innocence and mortal descents into the Abyss, Dorian Gray’s last confrontation with his fatal portrait. Cziffra’s huge rhetorical gestures, their vehement aggression, their demure modesty, become a whirlwind in which Manichean forces battle. A moody improvisatory fluctuates within the measured realization of Chopin’s musings, and a sudden eruption or left hand mordent from Cziffra – beyond the printed indication – runs par for the course. If the frenzied Ballade is “about” self destruction, then better recall Nietzsche’s dictum that a man would rather will nothingness than not will.
Cziffra’s strong suit, Liszt, enters haughtily with the Spanish Rhapsody (after La Folia) in bold strokes, the added flourishes in debonair cascades. A more expansive performance than that offered on the Cziffra Society disc (from 7 May 1964), the traversal enjoys all sorts of explosive charges, sudden rushes and gargantuan runs against syncopated octaves, the grand style dripping from the Iberian leaves. The right hand takes the Folia motif in diaphanous music-box timbres, the skirts of the Andalusian maidens fluttering, waiting for Glinka to orchestrate the suggestive draperies. As more fioritura mounts, we wonder if we are listening to Cziffra or Paderewski. The darker colors remind us of the Totentanz. The E Major Polonaise provides another extravaganza of color and musical noblesse oblige, Roman bread and circuses in swirling timbres. The Hungarian ethos, its Lydian modality, flavors the dance with especial spices, often in the form of a water-piece. Madness and majesty suffuse the wild Grand Galop chromatique, a war-horse in every sense, as though the Marx Brothers had access to four percussive zithers. Cziffra actually announced, “I’m very tired,” prior to his launching into the D-flat Rhapsody. But as Paderewski once quipped that energy feeds on activity, so too the mercurial and acrobatic riffs of the engagement compel Cziffra to shatter the tops of our heads once more, his adding a wild cadenza in the middle of the meditative, lassu section. Try keeping still for the friss; but why torment yourself? A disc that appeals to every level of aural and digital virtuosity, this is perhaps the best Liszt recital you’ll hear all year.
— Gary Lemco
