Liszt pupil Moritz Rosenthal was in his late 60s when he made his first recordings in 1928. By this time, a softer expressive palette divided into infinite shades of color, and texture had replaced the thundering power of his youth. His staggeringly elegant “Blue Danube” paraphrase (with bits of Fledermaus thrown in for good measure) is a case in point. A cache of mostly unissued test recordings made in 1929 for the Edison label highlight the pianist’s old-school, aristocratic way with Chopin. Rosenthal’s outstretched rubatos sing with poetic logic, most gorgeously in the A-flat Nouvelle Etude. Using virtually no pedal, Rosenthal shapes the right hand arpeggios of the C major Op. 10 No. 1 Etude with a type of finger legato seldom heard from modern players. Although Rosenthal is past his prime in a group of 1939-42 RCA recordings, young pianists can learn from his singing tone and calm authority in the Chopin B minor Sonata’s slow movement. All this material, incidentally, appears on CD for the first time, save for the Strauss, and is superbly transferred by Ward Marston.
