Vladimir Horowitz, Pianist.

New York Philharmonic, Eugene Ormandy, Conductor.

RCA Victor Red Seal 61564 (Analog Stereo)

Previously released as RCA Victor Red Seal RCD1-2633 and CRL1-2633

Recorded Live in Concert at Carnegie Hall, 8 January 1978.

This masterfully recorded version of Rachmaninoff's Third Concerto was given on the 50th anniversary of Russian Pianist Vladimir Horowitz' American debut. Though not preferred by most critics to his 1951 recording with Reiner and the RCA Symphony Orchestra, this is by far Horowitz' most polished, emotional and powerful performance - full of cantabile and warmth, yet never lacking in the pyrotechnics for which Volodya was so famous. His treatment of the concerto is actually closer to his 1930 recording with Albert Coates and the London Symphony Orchestra.

How fortunate we are, as well, to have Rachmaninoff's close friend Eugene Ormandy as conductor for this eventful recording - this is the only available recording of Rachmaninoff's two greatest champions in collaboration. This, in fact, is my favourite classical recording - period. It documents Horowitz' first appearance with an orchestra since 1953 and one can sense the anticipation from the opening chords of hearing what Horowitz would come up with. This piece has been long known as Horowitz' warhorse, but for the first time, Horowitz does not pounce upon this great work immediately with his explosive pianism.

Instead of attacking the opening movement (Allegro ma non tanto) with the linear thrust of sound for which he was famous, here Horowitz delivers a subtle, reflective rendering. It is as though Horowitz has been holding back this concerto for twenty-five years, and doesn't want to let it go; each note is imbued with urgency and passion - flowing from Horowitz' fingers like so many precious gems and gold pieces.

His buildup to the cadenza is done superbly (Horowitz plays the original version, rather than the more virtuosic ossias. Commented Horowitz about his choice of cadenza, "I play the original cadenza in the first movement. Rachmaninoff always played it too. You know, the cadenza really builds up to the end of the concerto. The alternate cadenza is like an ending in itself. It's not good to end the concerto before it's over!")

Eugene Ormandy's conducting is equally commanding and brilliant. I can only imagine what was going through his mind as he conducted this piece, which he had almost forty years before recorded with Rachmaninoff himself. While the strings are starker than those of the Philadelphia Orchestra, Ormandy skillfully bends the will of the New York Philharmonic to Horowitz' playing: Where Horowitz takes a relaxed tempo, the orchestra gives him plenty of room, playing in refrain off his melodies. Two examples of this are the simple, eloquent flute solo coming off the heels of Horowitz' cadenza in the first movement, and the undercurrent of the lower strings in the second (Intermezzo: Adagio) over which Horowitz conjures from his famed Steinway the entire range of his vast pianistic emotion.

Yet, when Horowitz explodes into flurries of chordal progression and crescendi, the Philharmonic brings in the air support he needs to pull off this concerto of massive and heroic proportions. In the finale (Alla Breve), all of the tentativeness and anxiety of the previous two movements are shed as Horowitz and Ormandy build to finale's climax. Deftly they work in unison, each passage building upon another suspensefully, tautly, the tempo accelerating ever so slightly to the impassioned conclusion. The last two minutes of the concerto are beautifully and triumphantly delivered, the brass and timpani playing in staccatoed counterpoint to Horowitz' piano, which ardently ascends in legato to the pinnacle of the concerto.

This performance, moreso than any other, brings out the fully romantic nature of this concerto.When the concerto is finished, you suddenly realise that the sense of rapture and deliverance you had felt has not left you. And when the last notes reverberate from your speakers, you won't know whether the thunderous ovation you hear is coming from the Carnegie Hall audience, or from within.