Volume 66 in the Liszt Complete Piano Music series focuses on transcriptions from operas by Mozart and Donizetti. The Reminiscences on Mozart's Don Giovanni, with it's technical demands and innovations, stands at the pinnacle of Liszt's transcription procedure.

Hailed by critics at the Lucerne Festival as a modern Rachmaninov and the triumphant winner of the first Rachmaninov Competition in Moscow in 1983, Konstantin Scherbakov presents the 14th volume in Marco Polo’s Godowsky complete edition, and the first featuring selections from the 53 Studies on Chopin’s Études. Previous volumes have been critically acclaimed. In addition to recitals, orchestral performances and tours all over the world, his concert activity has brought participation in major festivals, including Salzburg, Frankfurt, Bregenz, Bodensee, Lugano, Evian and Colmar. His contribution to the Naxos Liszt piano music series includes critically acclaimed performances of Liszt's transcriptions of Beethoven's Symphonies, of which the Ninth Symphony was awarded the German Critics' Prize 2005.

Scriabin seems to be an "in" composer all of a sudden, what with numerous new recordings of his youthful Piano Concerto and late tone poems/symphonies. In the past few months, we've had new recordings by some real "heavyweights", including Boulez and Pletnev on Deutsche Grammophon, Rozdestvensky on Chandos, and Ashkenazy on Decca. This budget-priced production from the composer's compatriots certainly holds its own against all comers. Konstantin Scherbakov plays the concerto with steel and sensitivity in equal measure, and he's particularly successful in knitting together the loose architecture of the outer movements, while at the same time making the filigreed piano writing sound like real Scriabin, rather than Chopin on steroids. The performance of Prometheus is predictably less smooth than the recent Boulez/Chicago, and not as sumptuously recorded. But despite the slower overall tempo, the performance is much more physically exciting and has a naturalness of flow that Boulez doesn't quite match. The couplings, orchestrations of various short piano pieces, are also captivating and unique. In all, the disc is definitely worth a listen, even if you think you've had enough of this music.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com

This superb disc is number 21 in Naxos’s projected series of Liszt’s complete piano music. Given that Leslie Howard’s Hyperion series (to my knowledge, the only one that is yet "complete" although he keeps finding more to record) ran to 57 volumes, some with multiple discs, this still has some way to go. I mention this because, in one of life’s coincidences, the discs in the series I have acquired previously are numbers 7 and 14 (respectively containing Rossini transcriptions and Bunte Reihe transcriptions of music by Ferdinand David), both of which were also excellent.

But, hang on a minute, this music certainly doesn’t sound like Liszt and, of course, it isn’t – it’s Beethoven. Although I have been aware of Liszt’s transcriptions of his symphonies for some time, this is my first experience of them. I approached the disc with several questions in my mind: Why did Liszt transcribe them? Why, when I can easily choose between recordings by Klemperer, Karajan, Böhm and Zinman, should I want to listen to a piano version? Even if I am interested in piano transcriptions of Beethoven’s symphonies, should I really be starting with the Ninth?

I would presume that Liszt was motivated to produce his transcriptions as a vehicle for his own performance and to increase the possibility of their performance more generally; although they would only ever be accessible to great virtuosos. My initial reason for wanting to listen to this was curiosity but I will re-listen in the future because the experience was much more compelling than I had expected. It made me think afresh about a work I thought I knew well. Each time I have listened to it I have marvelled at Beethoven’s music, Liszt’s conception for the piano, and Scherbakov’s musicianship and virtuosity.

My feeling is that the difficulties of playing the 9th Symphony on the piano must increase progressively throughout the work. The first movement is relatively straightforward compared to the scherzo, for which there is an incessant rhythmic challenge; despite this Scherbakov takes all the other repeats except the last one. In the adagio the difficulty is obviously not one of hitting the notes but conveying the feeling normally imparted in the string writing. Sensibly Scherbakov adopts a relatively fast tempo (although the duration of 12 minutes is similar to Zinman, Böhm takes about half as long again) and yet he convincingly conveys the spiritual essence of the music. But all this is nothing compared to the finale! As this began, I was really sceptical. Hadn’t Liszt thought of bringing at least a tenor along with him? Can a piano really sing like four soloists and a chorus? Of course it can’t but Scherbakov’s piano sings for all it is worth and the words went round in my head. The experience was quite different but still a rich broth rather than a consommé. Scherbakov handles the various contrasting sections of the finale with the same skill as a great conductor and he brings off a magnificent conclusion. The fantastic glow that you should feel at the end of this work was just as intense as ever.

Second time round, listening to this disc with the orchestral score was an interesting experience. The most striking thing was how many of the notes are in the piano version, a very high proportion and certainly all the ones that matter. Curiously though, there seems to be a small cut in the scherzo of eight bars just before the last repeated section (at 9’52" on track 2). This section (on page 133 of the Dover edition of the score) is played on all the orchestral versions mentioned above. Essentially it is a repeat of the opening eight bars of this movement. I don’t know whether Liszt, Scherbakov or Naxos is responsible for the omission. It would be surprising if it were Liszt because this short passage is so straightforward that even I could transcribe it for the piano (you couldn’t say that for more than 99% of the rest of this work!) although perhaps these bars were not in the edition of the score he used. Whatever the explanation, I raise it as a point of interest and do not feel that it detracts significantly from his truly magnificent rendition of this movement.

The recorded sound is not absolutely top-drawer and the piano initially seemed a little harsh in tone (this is not entirely inappropriate at the beginning of this work) but my ears adapted. The booklet is rather disappointing – no need here for a biography of Liszt, rather some more detail about the transcriptions would have been appreciated. But, for me, given music-making like this, these are minor considerations.

There is competition, both from within Leslie Howard’s complete Liszt series and also a complete Beethoven symphony transcription set by Cyprien Katsaris (see link to review below). Obviously, I haven’t heard these discs (yet) but, regardless of their merits, Scherbakov is worth hearing as well.

I am glad I started my piano transcription experience with the Ninth because it has made me want to explore the rest of the series. Apparently Scherbakov has already recorded three discs including the first six symphonies (see links to reviews of two of the discs below) and these are already available. I shall be looking out for these and the rest of this series, whatever their place in Naxos’s grand scheme. I shall also await volume 28 with anticipation - perhaps it might contain some original music by Liszt?

This is a magnificent disc and listening to it is a truly uplifting experience.

-- Patrick C. Waller, MusicWeb International

After excellent accounts for Naxos of Tchaikovsky's First and Third piano concertos, Konstantin Scherbakov and Dmitry Yablonsky offer an even finer sequel. Indeed, this performance of the Second piano concerto moves straight to the top of the pile (along with Pletnev's) as the reference edition of a work that so often comes across as heavy and dull. Not here! With swift tempos and a "take no prisoners" approach, the result is infinitely exciting. The first movement's huge contrasts in tempo and dynamics between first and second subjects (and beautifully executed transitions between them) practically define the Romantic aesthetic, chez Tchaikovsky. The slow movement's accompanied trio textures seldom have flowed more winsomely, and you have to hear Scherbakov to believe how thrillingly he flings himself into the finale's fistfuls of notes. It seems such a simple concept: play the living daylights out of the music. Why do so few pianists attempt it?

While less revelatory an interpretation in terms of the competition, Scherbakov and Yablonsky do just as well by the Concert Fantasy, a wonderful concerto-length piece that no one seems to love. Tuneful, colorfully scored, and innovative in its two-movement form, it deserves to be better known and played with the just the kind of lyrical impetus, bravura, and élan that it receives here. The second movement, "Contrasts", holds together particularly well, perhaps because Scherbakov and Yablonsky take Tchaikovsky at his word and bring out as much variety as possible without ever lapsing into mannerism. Never mind that Naxos has a very fine disc containing exactly this coupling already in its catalog (by Glemser and Wit); this is the one to own, and the excellently balanced sonics and modest price only seal the deal.

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.comm

Konstantin Scherbakov's 24 Shostakovich Preludes and Fugues leapfrog to the head of a small yet distinguished class on disc, whose valedictorians include Tatiana Nikolaeva and Vladimir Ashkenazy. Time and again I am struck by expressive and textural novelties that inevitably result from Scherbakov's fastidious adherence to Shostakovich's markings. The pianist connects the A minor Prelude's scurrying 16th-notes with a seamless legato that still manages to allow each one to speak softly. He treats the D major Prelude's right-hand arpeggiated chords in a slightly detached manner in order to offset the left hand's cello-like legato line. In the F-sharp minor Fugue Scherbakov takes special care to differentiate the levels of soft dynamics. He maintains Fugue No. 15's marcatissimo directive with unyielding vehemence, while effortlessly clarifying the difficult-to-disentangle voices.


Those familiar with Nikolaeva's freer treatment of the 16th fugue's elaborate subject will be surprised at the profile and contrast it acquires when played in strict time, as Scherbakov does. As a result, the uneven duplets truly stand out from the even ones. On the other hand, the 14th Prelude's tremolos sometimes threaten to cover the melodic material. Here both Nikolaeva and the composer relegate these tremolos to a spooky background murmur, and make more of the motto theme's tenutos. And Scherbakov sometimes plays down Shostakovich's edgy humor. Yet these quibbles are about aesthetic choices, not interpretive faults, and really don't matter in the larger context of Scherbakov's achievement. His interpretations are thought out, deeply pondered, prepared to the nth degree, and played with a perfect fusion of technique and soul. Even listeners who consider these works arid and somewhat pedantic will change their minds after hearing Scherbakov. A triumph.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Rachmaninov’s Chopin Variations is a relative rarity on disc and a work that has never caught on in the concert hall. Here is a performance that makes you wonder why. More clearly than in Berezovsky’s (incomplete) recording (Teldec), more compellingly than even Howard Shelley (Hyperion), Scherbakov illustrates how the Variations, touchingly dedicated to Leschetizky, come from the same golden vein of inspiration that followed the Second Piano Concerto, even reusing some of its figurations and modulations (listen to Vars 3 and 8). Contrast the limpid lyricism of the brief Var. 17, one of the composer’s greatest melodies, with the bravura finale (Scherbakov chooses the alternative presto coda to end the cycle): this is great Rachmaninov playing with an eye for detail and lucid phrasing as much as for atmosphere and colour.

The five Op. 3 pieces are notable for the beautiful tonal quality of the playing (this and the recording throughout are first class). I’ve heard more cohesive takes on the Prelude, the second of the set (Hofmann, for example, and the composer himself), and the opening ‘Élégie’ has a slightly indulgent tempo, but Scherbakov’s individuality and character carry the day.

In the Sonata he manages to combine drama, breathtaking articulation and clarity of texture (usually one disappears at the expense of the other in this work). While it does not claim the pent-up, nerve-jangling thrill of Horowitz’s famous account, and despite a slight loss of tension in the final pages, Scherbakov’s must rank as a front runner among modern recordings.

-- Jeremy Nicholas, BBC Music

Franz Liszt viewed his solo piano transcriptions of the Beethoven Symphonies as a means to disseminate these works and make them accessible to the general public. This, of course, was decades before Edison invented recorded sound, and a century before umpteen Beethoven cycles jockeyed for position on the CD racks. Why listen to Beethoven's symphonies on the piano, then, when orchestral versions are everywhere to be had? I can answer that question in four words: Liszt was a genius. He conveys the emotional essence of Beethoven's instrumentation in pianistic terms, with a sixth sense for when to fill in textures, as well as what to leave out. While the piano writing isn't particularly dense, the keyboard layout involves frequent register shifts and busy contrapuntal activity. Konstantin Scherbakov's stupendous technique and grounded musicianship allows him to bring these elements into play with fluent ease and rock-solid rhythm. He may not inflect the Fifth Symphony's slow movement as ravishingly as Glenn Gould, but he faces the finale's notey hurdles without resorting to Gould's overdubbing tactics.


The Second Symphony is even better. Scherbakov's swift and steady first movement introduction slides into the Allegro con brio with insidious ease, and his heartfelt, pellucid Larghetto virtually plays itself. No tempo compromises in the Scherzo and Finale are neccesary under this pianist's pliable, secure hands. If Naxos continues this segment of its Liszt cycle with Scherbakov, it will have a worthy foil to counter Cyprien Katsaris' more personalized idiosyncratic Beethoven/Liszt symphony survey. The resonant, full-bodied, and clear sonics clinch my enthusiastic recommendation.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

If Art Tatum had been white, he might have made a career as a great classical pianist. Had Leopold Godowsky (1870-1938) been black, he might have become a great jazzer. His best playing is said to have been to private gatherings in his New York salon, and his compositions are beautifully wrought for the quiet delight of connoisseurs. They are relatively, but only relatively, easy listening. Virtuosi sometimes play the short pieces here as encores, when they do all the hard work and the audience relaxes. They are stylishly served in a recording which captures the sensitive colouring of this 34-year-old Russian pianist.

-- Adrian Jack, BBC Music

For a less caustic, more ample-toned, and softer-edged set of Shostakovich Op. 34 Preludes than we usually hear, check out Konstantin Scherbakov. His performances contain many beautiful things. No. 2's whimsical scales and runs magically glide over the bar lines, while No. 9 and No. 12's whirling patterns are impressively controlled and supple--and the pianist articulates the marcato/legato interplay in No. 11 and No. 21 to perfection.


My criticism concerns Scherbakov's arch rubato within certain lyrical pieces. His little holdbacks and gratuitous ritards in No. 8, for example, undermine the effect of the composer's indicated ritards, which the pianist barely observes anyway. And a few exposed wrong notes easily could have been corrected (the E-flat in No. 5, measure 14). Such blemishes, however, do not detract from Scherbakov's compelling pianism.


All the virtues Scherbakov brings to the Preludes equally apply to the composer's gnarly Aphorisms cycle and youthful Three Fantastic Dances. The pianist also sails through the First Sonata's unrelenting polytextural thickets and age-of-steel dissonances with maximum power and minimum struggle. Eleanor Thomason's superb engineering yields one of the finest sounding solo piano discs Naxos has produced.
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Despite a sonic soundstage that places the orchestra and soloist in a position akin to viewing celestial beings from the wrong end of a telescope, these are simply fabulous performances. It's good to have the Third Concerto in its conjectural three-movement manifestation (Tchaikovsky completed a first movement, which consigned it to a stand-alone composition, while Tanyev reconstructed a second and third movement from outlines Tchaikovsky had sketched for an ultimately rejected symphony), especially in a reading full of enough sweep and passion to outdistance Peter Donohoe's fine EMI traversal. Konstantin Scherbakov's sparkling, assured fingerwork in the cadenzas alone is a selling point--and the First concerto is a keeper, no doubt about it! It's fast, it's fluid, and it's utterly without airs, mannerisms, and pretentions.


Unlike other pianists who milk the lyrical unaccompanied sections out of shape, or dive into the octave sequences as if they were sporting events, Scherbakov's organic feeling for tempo relationships and musicianly virtuosity binds everything together, and the Russian Philharmonic musicians play their hearts out under Dmitry Yablonsky's uplifting direction. For superior sound, sophisticated orchestral execution, and soloistic individuality, it's worth spending the extra cost for Argerich/Abbado (DG) or Volodos/Ozawa (Sony). But give this release a try, and don't be surprised if you return to it more often than you've anticipated. [6/9/2004]
--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

The 12th volume of Konstantin Scherbakov’s ongoing Leopold Godowsky cycle primarily features shorter original works and transcriptions of German art songs. Compared to his elaborate Chopin Etudes paraphrases, Godowsky’s reworkings of songs by Schumann, Brahms, Schubert, and Böhm are relatively restrained and technically manageable, although the Strauss/Godowsky Ständchen’s intricate filigree requires, shall we say, a little practice to master it well.

As always, Scherbakov is in complete command, technically and musically. His sense of textural foreground and background particularly shines in the Six Waltz-Poems for left hand alone, while his firm articulation and rhythmic drive in the Op. 11 No. 1 Concert Study prove more interesting than the actual music. These qualities also describe Scherbakov’s bravura performance of the Weber Perpetuum Mobile, where Godowsky piles more technical hurdles on top of that composer’s already challenging First Sonata Rondo finale. In Godowsky’s hands, Weber’s Invitation to the Dance gets swallowed up into a huge contrapuntal paraphrase, packed with chromatic reharmonizations and garish inner voices. Somehow Scherbakov’s straightforward elegance and stylish poise prevent the music from sounding overloaded. Marco Polo’s engineering has measurably improved over the course of this cycle, and piano mavens will appreciate Keith Anderson’s informative booklet notes.

-- Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Learn more about this recording on the Naxos Classical Spotlight podcast!

This, the final volume in Konstantin Scherbakov's recording of Godowsky's complete works for piano is also the second of two volumes dedicated to Godowsky’s Studies on the Chopin Études. Scherbakov performs these fearsomely challenging works with aplomb: ‘There is no one better for Godowsky’ (American Record Guide). The first volume is available on 8.225372 (volume 14 in the series).