Cembal d’amour CD 136, 66:29 [Distrib. By Qualiton] ****:
Pianist-producer Mordecai Shehori continues his tributes to his teacher Mindru Katz (1925-1978) with another fine recital on Cembal d’amour of “Concert Favorites.” No specific recording dates are provided, but a note indicates the source to have been Pye Records, 1960s.
Katz opens with a brilliant performance of Haydn’s Arietta and Variations in A, the composer’s “answer,” if you will, to Rameau’s famous set of Theme and Six Doubles in A Minor. From a tender, lyric impulse to devilishly rapid filigree, runs, and repeated notes, Katz proceeds with meticulous care and sure-fire articulation, his singing tone as broad as his seamless roulades. This performance ranks along with Clara Haskil’s realization of Mozart’s Duport Variations as among the more thrilling excursions in the form. The same epithets apply to Beethoven’s 32 Variations in C Minor, wherein the alterations in harmony, dynamics, and texture proceed with a mighty spontaneity, the plastic line never wavering in its basic pulse. Often, the flutter of repeated notes, leggierissimo or forte e staccato, anticipate much of Brahms and Liszt in the Paganini style. The passacaglia continues in dauntless balance, with limitless color reserves at Katz’s disposal. Quite titanic, this rendition, on a par with Cziffra and Horowitz.
The Beethoven Moonlight Sonata brings out the poetic side of Katz’s personality in vivid, chromatic colors, his pacing of the first movement on a par with Moiseiwitsch’s late inscription for American Decca. No rough edges, no false exaggeration or cloying tempi mar the limpid meditation that Katz coaxes forth. The Allegretto dances buoyantly, stately and arched in all details. The Final Allegro spumes gristle and fire, Katz the demonic whirlwind. The left hand threatens to outrun the right at several points, but it proves a happy, dead heat, breathless but never formless, the shaping of the musical line permeated with what Rachmaninov called “the point” at every cadence.
The final group pairs temperamental contraries, Brahms and Liszt, although their musical means can be quite similar. The Brahms B-flat Intermezzo from Op. 117 instantiates the “rainy day” autumn in Brahms, meditative, old-bachelor music rife with nostalgia. Gorgeous pearly-play allows the intermezzo to bask in its liquid resignation. The G Minor Rhapsody emanates girth and sinew, without the fatal flaw of having been played too fast. The applications of bass harmony and stretti achieve a cumulative power that makes compelling listening. The more extroverted E-flat Rhapsody from Op. 119 Katz takes in epic strokes, alternately stentorian and quicksilver. The middle section comes off as an old-world waltz, a Viennese music-hall evocation. The “fate” motif returns all-too-quickly, then converts into a mock march-militaire and tinkling cymbal. The last pages make of Brahms a dubious, epic hero, a German Romantic in the guise of Don Quixote. As for Liszt’s perennial danse macabre, the First Mephisto Waltz, Katz outdoes himself for kaleidoscopic effects, bombast, sweeping passions, and mad bravura. Our collective ears and eyeballs pop in astonishment at the dazzling furies and purring sirens Katz elicits from his keyboard, quite the tiger! Considering that the Moonlight, the Brahms, and the Liszt are all new to the Katz discography, this disc comes highly recommended.
–Gary Lemco
