Listeners curious about Moura Lympany’s 1951 Rachmaninov Preludes cycle for Decca (expertly refurbished by Testament) should not expect the kind of thunder, thrust, or surface flash often associated with pianists who tackle this repertoire (“tackle” being the operative word!). She’s essentially a lyrical artist who commands a liquid legato and ravishing portfolio of colors. Never does she make an ugly sound. Listen to how gorgeously Lympany shades the composer’s trademark whirling arpeggios in the Op. 23 Nos. 2, 7, and 8 preludes, arching rather than hammering out the long-limbed melodies, juggling these textural components with unforced ease. Passages requiring drive and stamina, such as Op. 23 No. 2’s massive chords or Op. 32 No. 3’s unrelenting toccata-like patterns, don’t measure up to today’s super-virtuoso norm. On the other hand, Lympany makes a convincing case for playing the introspective Op. 23 No. 4, Op. 32 Nos. 2 and 10, as well as the volatile Op. 32 No. 1 pieces with as little rubato as possible.
The sonics haven’t dated well, and louder moments occasionally overload the source tape. While Vladimir Ashkenazy’s integral 1972 cycle for Decca remains the most artistcally and pianistically consistent version (not to mention its attractive mid-price), Lympany’s best work still deserves the ear of any card-carrying pianophile. Perhaps we can prevail upon Pearl or Dutton to remaster Lympany’s early-1940s shellac Rachmaninov Preludes, or hope that Warner Classics might reissue her stereo Erato remakes.
