Liszt’s 12 Transcendental Etudes withstand Freddy Kempf’s impetuous artistry and staggering technical proficiency to more convincing effect than his wayward and willful Chopin on a previous release. Kempf’s full-frontal grasp of rapid chords, treacherous leaps, and stamina-testing octaves is charged with pulverizing ferocity and drive. His note-gobbling Wilde Jagd, for example, nearly approaches the similarly arrogant and more dynamic virtuosity Kissin (RCA) brings to his selections from the twelve. Kissin, however, aligns Feux Follet’s knotty double notes with more delicate transparency, as do Richter (Philips) and Nojima (Reference Recordings).
And there are moments when Kempf’s fingers outrace his brain. It’s great that Kempf’s well-oiled digits can effortlessly toss off the 10th etude’s triplet patterns, but why the nervous rushing? The pianist barely differentiates Mazeppa’s outer-register melodies from their middle-register accompanying figures. And Kempf often dispatches rapid arpeggiated chords with a Samurai sword rather than letting the notes speak their peace. Or he’ll articulate detached notes and short slurs in clipped karate chops. On the other hand, the lyrical Paysage and Vision are sensitively played, and the pianist’s control of sonorities throughout Chasse-neige make the dominating tremolos sound less notey than usual. On the whole I prefer Claudio Arrau’s Transcendental Etudes for their greater finesse, more fervently projected lyrical lines, and seasoned musicianship (to say nothing of the veteran pianist’s unimpaired technique). Let’s see what Kempf’s remakes will bring, 20 years from now…
