Same artist, really different versions

[Chuck Nessa]

I was thinking of the Elliott Carter piano concerto by Ursula Oppens and Michael Gielen and the two recordings they made, first on New World and another on Arte Nova. Can't find the date of the first (New World) but the second is from 1992.

Have not listened to either recently but remember the earlier recording as less flowing, but maybe more engaging.

Can you post other comparisons?

[Mark Stryker]

The various Karajan/Berlin Beethoven cycles come to mind -- 1963, 1977 and 1985. (There's an earlier set with the Philharmonia but I don't know it.) Of the others, all on DG, of course, the '63 set is great -- beautifully plotted but still fresh, natural, flowing, with a real sense of the changing character of the music. The subsequent sets get increasingly mannered and over-massaged -- the one-size-fits all of later Karajan.

Edited January 12, 2015 by Mark Stryker

[Big Beat Steve]

Now that wouild be an interesting topic if posted in the "Misc. music" section. Quite a few jazz/R&B etc. cases might come to mind ...

[jeffcrom]

I'm sure I've talked about this before in some thread or another, but it fits here.

Samuil Feinberg recorded the Bach choral prelude "Allein Gott in der Höh' sei Ehr," BWV 662 twice - once in 1952 and again just before his death in 1962. And when I say "just before his death," I mean just a few weeks. Neither performance is historically "correct" in terms of Baroque style - Feinberg is very much the Russian romantic. But the 1962 recording is astonishing - slow, drawn out, and very emotional. At eight minutes and twenty seconds, it's almost three minutes longer than the earlier version. I may be reading too much into things, but I hear it as if Feinberg knew that this was likely to be the last time he would ever play this piece - so he lingers over every cadence and wrings every bit of feeling out of it. It's one of my favorite Bach recordings.

Both versions are on the BMG Russian Piano School disc pictured above.

[Д.Д.]

I'm convinced that Glenn Gould's Goldberg Variations 1955 and 1981 were by different guys.

Yes, this one came to my mind immediately as well. I like both versions (there are more, actually - a 1954 one and a concert one from Salzburg from mid-60s, but these 55 and 81 offer the greatest contrast), but prefer the early one. It has more vigor and energy; the later one sounds more detached to me.

In general, Bach's music seems to inspire regular revisiting. Looks like every major cellist recorded suites at least twice - with often dramatically different results. Wispelwey recorded them three times (so far). I love the second version, have only once heard the last one (recorded at lower pitch), have not formed any opinion of it yet.

[soulpope]

Claudio Arrau revised his view on several composers during his career, IMO most notably reg the Beethoven Sonatas (recordings from the 1960`s and 1980`s) - favoured his early Beethoven, now step by step also appreciating his later performances.....

Edited January 13, 2015 by soulpope

[soulpope]

Sergiu Celibidache - especially reg Bruckner .......

[Larry Kart]

Don't have the details in front of me right now, but IIRC Arthur Rubinstein's approach to Chopin changed a good deal from the '30s, to the '40s, to the 50s, and 60s, and on.

[Peter Friedman]

Larry, it will be interesting to see what those changes were by Rubinstein playing Chopin?

[Larry Kart]

Larry, it will be interesting to see what those changes were by Rubinstein playing Chopin?

Some comments from various would-be knowledgable folks:

About the ‘’60s Nocturnes:

Yet it must also be stated that while Rubinstein's approach makes this an excellent reference set, I would not want to be without the more imaginative Nocturnes he recorded in the 1930s, which I frankly turn to more often for enjoyment. Another issue is that Rubinstein, whose hearing was failing by the 1960s, almost never plays a true pianissimo.

There's a sense of adventure and discovery [in his ’27-’38 EMI Chopin recordings] that is somewhat absent in Rubinstein's later recordings.

The Barcarolle, Op 60 was recorded at Rubinstein's second recording session, in 1928. This performance is closer in tempo and phrasing to the manner in which Rubinstein played the piece "live" than his later studio recordings. Indeed, there is an erotic impulse in this version which is largely missing from his 1957 and 1962 remakes.

Rubinstein made three complete versions of Chopin's Scherzos, with this first set dating from 1932. All three versions offer testament to the pianist's solid technique, innate virtuosity, and natural sense of musical architecture. Tempos are breathtakingly faster in these earlier performances than in the later ones.

If the nocturnes lull you into a sense of repose, the Polonaises will get you fired up. It is interesting to compare this 1934-1935 cycle with the more renowned stereo version from 1964. While the later cycle emphasizes a rather dignified approach, the earlier version is more spontaneous. The brio, freedom, and swagger of this set simply have to be heard to be believed. True, Rubinstein, like a runaway train, comes dangerously close to running off the rails at times. But the musical rewards the pianist reaps are well worth the technical risks, and the more reflective Polonaises are played with simple, unforced poetry. Rubinstein's innate understanding of the structural underpinnings of Chopin's music comes through in the Polonaise-Fantasie, Op. 61, a notoriously difficult work to hold together. On balance, I feel the 1950s "middle-period" set most effectively balances virtuosity with gravitas.

There are actually three periods of Rubinstein Chopin available now, thanks to

the new box set, separate components of which will be made available in the new

year. His early and middle Chopin recordings are in mono, the late ones in

stereo.

He recorded the complete Mazurkas, Nocturnes, Scherzos, Polonaises and

Concertos three times, the Waltzes twice, the Sonata 2 twice, Sonata 3 once

(stereo), Ballades once (stereo), and Preludes once (mono). He made several

recordings of some smaller "stand alone" items as well, like the Barcarolle.

Broadly, the earlier ones are more imaginative, bold, freewheeling; the later

ones are not only slower but progressively more cautious and "subtle" -- some

characterize the autumnal recordings as bland by comparison, others find them

"magisterial," and point to the superior audio quality, which gives us a better

idea of what his tone sounded like. The middle period, from the late forties

and early fifties, combines elements of both of those around it, and is worth

hearing for admirers of either; these performances are now making its first

appearance on CD. I find them a shade more sober and contemplative than their

predecessors, technically more impressive than their successors. Rubinstein in

transition.

As for me, I feel that Brahms was the composer with whom Rubinstein had the greatest affinity (I think AR said as much). His Chopin certainly doesn't leave me cold, but fairly often there's more of an element of reserve than I would prefer.

[Peter Friedman]

Thanks Larry. I hope to get to hear some of the earlier Rubinstein Chopin.

[Bigshot]

I actually think that late Rubinstein was an aesthetic choice, not due to failing hearing. I agree that both are great, and the earlier versions are more vital. But the later ones are models of perfection with their own particular aesthetic choices.

Live Rubinstein is the proof that he was the absolute drop dead genius when it came to Chopin.

Edited January 21, 2015 by Bigshot