BBC Legends 3: Pianist Rudolf Serkin

Earlier this week, in the course of my disc-by-disc account of the latest 20-CD release in the BBC Legends series, I observed that pianist Shura Cherkassky “holds a special place in my personal history of collecting recordings.” The thirteenth CD in this series has even greater significance, since it dates back to when my parents were just beginning to collect LP (long playing) vinyl records. Columbia introduced this medium in 1948; and, by way of promotion, they provided about half a dozen albums free of charge to those purchasing the new turntable for playing the discs. (Some may recall a similar approach when compact discs were first released.)

Unless I am mistaken, two of the LPs that my parents selected featured the pianist Rudolf Serkin performing Ludwig van Beethoven’s Opus 73 (fifth) piano concerto in E-flat major (known as the “Emperor”) and Johannes Brahms’ Opus 83 (second) piano concerto in B-flat major. Once I was old enough to play recordings myself, both of those albums became personal favorites; and it would be fair to say that Serkin was the first pianist I knew by name. Ironically, I never saw Serkin in performance until I was going to Carnegie Hall concerts regularly in my forties.

The BBC Legends Serkin CD is based on a single solo recital that he gave in the Royal Festival Hall on June 4, 1973 (a few years prior to my Carnegie adventures). The second half of the program was devoted entirely to two Beethoven sonatas, the two-movement Opus 78 in F-sharp major and Opus 53 in C major, better known as the “Waldstein” sonata. The first half involved music that I would not previously have associated with Serkin. The first track was devoted to Johann Sebastian Bach’s BWV 993, the E major “Capriccio in honorem Johann Christoph Bachii,” dedicated to Sebastian’s eldest brother. This is followed by Max Reger’s Opus 81, his variations and fugue on the aria “Sein Allmach zu ergründen” (to know his omnipotence) from the BWV 128 cantata Auf Christi Himmelfahrt allein (on Christ’s ascension into heaven).

Most of Serkin’s life predated just about any attention to “historically informed” performance, meaning that he had no misgivings about playing Bach on a modern piano. Where Reger is concerned, many readers may recall my having done a “deep dive” into his organ repertoire; but his compositions for piano have been almost entirely unfamiliar to me. Nevertheless, I recall that, when writing about Reger’s approach to what I called “prelude (or toccata) and fugue couplings,” the results tended to come across as “Bach on steroids.”

In that context Opus 81 comes close to a roller coaster ride through fourteen variations with almost aggressive swings in tempo. The impact is all the stronger since no variation is longer than two and a half minutes in duration and three of them last for less than a minute (the first two being back-to-back). The fugue, on the other hand, unfolds over the course of about eight minutes. All this makes for an experience decidedly different from any of my previous encounters with Serkin, either in performance or on recording.