Save for the Corelli Variations, Hélène Grimaud previously recorded these Rachmaninov works for Denon. Her remake of the Second Concerto largely improves on her 1994 outing with Jesus Lopez-Cobos and the Royal Philharmonic. For starters, Vladimir Ashkenazy fashions a more robust and sophisticated orchestral framework, and he dovetails Grimaud’s free-spirited phrasing in the first two movements like white covers rice. The pianist brings greater assertion and probity to the keyboard writing now, with more liberal tempo fluctuation and exploratory inner voices. The problem is that the piano is way up in the mix, and occupies center stage even when it is supposed to be accompanying other instruments, which is often the case in this score. Sometimes, as at the very opening, it sounds as though pianist and orchestra are playing two different, unrelated pieces simultaneously. Such sameness of texture proves wearying after a while, and so does Grimaud’s rather monochrome sonority. And in the Finale we miss the rhythmic pizzazz and leonine, supple virtuosity that abounds in Richter’s wondrous DG benchmark.
Juxtaposing Grimaud’s “mature” G-sharp minor Prelude and selected Etudes-Tableaux with those she recorded at the ripe old age of 15, I find the earlier versions far more fluent and effortlessly dispatched. The Corelli Variations have their admirable moments, chiefly in Grimaud’s pliable handling of the more reflective, lyrical movements (such as the Adagio Misterioso and the Intermezzo). Whereas many pianists (particularly dead ones) used to emphasize melodies by playing the right hand a split second after the left, Grimaud often does the opposite, as you hear in the opening theme. Yet, as in the concerto, Grimaud’s pianism holds little tonal allure and her double-note passages don’t match the suaveness and characterful ease that Idil Biret (Naxos), Shura Cherkassky (Nimbus), and Ashkenazy (Testament, and two versions for Decca) bring to the music. The harsh resonance and lack of sonic warmth doesn’t help matters.
