When the 21-year-old Frédéric Chopin left his native Poland for Paris to seek his fortune, his style was fully formed, its characteristic and instantly identifiable features securely in place. Chopin’s music abounded with cantabile lines and ingenuously detailed decorative passages inspired by bel canto opera, together with extraordinary harmonic invention and an altogether revolutionary approach to timbre, nuance and keyboard deployment that changed the course of piano-writing and piano-playing for ever.

These characteristics abound throughout Chopin’s two books of Études, Opp 10 and 25, which pianist Louis Kentner accurately summed up as ‘a perfect fusion of the athletic and the aesthetic’. Until Chopin, most piano pieces aiming to improve technical mastery were didactic in nature and without much musical substance. While each one of Chopin’s Études focuses on a particular technical challenge, mastering the notes is only half the battle.

According to Abram Chasins in Speaking of Pianists (Knopf: 1957), when Steinway and Sons’ Alexander Greiner asked Josef Hofmann to play all 24 pieces, the legendary virtuoso declined, claiming that there is no pianist, and there never will be one pianist, who can play all the Chopin Études equally well. That hasn’t stopped more than 150 pianists from committing integral surveys to disc, albeit with variable degrees of success.

My selection of recordings attempts to cover a variety of approaches from pianists of different generations who’ve recorded both books of Études. It is by no means a comprehensive survey, limited to readily available items. As such, I expect keyboard cognoscenti to rake me over the coals for omitting a cherished favourite, not to mention fascinating historic recordings from pianists such as Jeanne-Marie Darré, Raoul Koczalski and David Saperton.

Earliest recordings

Concerning Wilhelm Backhaus’s pioneering 1927 cycle, a colleague once equated his pianism to a racehorse wearing blinders, which is not entirely true. Among shellac-era contenders, however, Alfred Cortot’s 1933/34 set remains unmatched for poetic rapture and soaring ecstasy. Cortot’s wrong notes and smudges hardly matter in light of his genius for projecting melodies, his wide colour palette and his sixth sense for hitting upon ideal tempos. Granted, Cortot plays certain Études better than others, yet he’s never dull. Notice the organ-like sonorities of the E flat minor Op 10 No 6, the seemingly contradictory notion of suaveness and crispness in the F minor Op 25 No 2’s rapid right-hand triplets, the textural variations of Op 10 No 10 and Op 25 No 5 articulated to the nines, plus whimsical inner voices aplenty. His 1942 French wartime remakes are less effective on the whole, and not as well recorded.

Cortot’s 1933/34 recording is full of individuality (photography: Private Collection)

Paul Badura‑Skoda’s superb scholarly edition of the Études for Schott tends to get overlooked by pianists, although James Methuen-Campbell cited the Austrian pianist’s Westminster recording as ‘among the most technically immaculate ever made’. Inherent rightness and proportion define Badura-Skoda’s phrasing, with no effects for effects’ sake. Tempos tend to be conservative, yet they never drag: for example, Op 10 No 7’s right-hand alternating thirds and sixths acquire uncommon breathing room and nuance, while Op 25 No 3 sings more than it scampers. Samson François rivals Cortot as a colourist, while scaling the older pianist’s textural caprices down a few notches. An individual voice informs François’s points of emphasis and accentuations, despite his somewhat irritating habit of elongating introductory up‑beats.

Australian Eloquence’s recent reissue of Ruth Slenczynska’s complete American Decca recordings gave her distinctive 1957 Études a new lease of catalogue life. The pianist’s grounded technique, stylish directness and vitality still stand the test of time. One can argue that slower selections lack inner tension and harmonic awareness. And some listeners will raise an eyebrow over Slenczynska’s broadly unorthodox Op 10 No 9, where the music’s agitato qualities give way to dark, brooding undercurrents. Her solid yet sonically harsh 1970s remakes are also available via download from Musical Concepts.

Into stereo

As 1959 spilled over into 1960, two of the mainstream piano world’s future standard-bearers dispelled Josef Hofmann’s aforementioned comment and raised the Chopin Études’ performance bar tenfold. The young Vladimir Ashkenazy’s spectacular fingerwork brilliantly fuses scintillation and sensibility. Tempos are brisk without veering towards the breakneck, although Ashkenazy’s jaw-dropping speed and control throughout the ‘stride piano’ A minor Op 25 No 4 make one wonder if he had signed a pact with the Devil! While Ashkenazy’s 1975 Decca remake offers superior engineering next to Melodiya’s relatively grotty (though certainly listenable) sound, the interpretations are a little heavier and more generalised in character, and lack the younger pianist’s unbridled élan.

EMI producer Peter Andry described the 18-year-old Maurizio Pollini’s 1960 recording sessions of the Chopin Études as ‘a spine-tingling experience’ and regretted that the pianist rejected their publication at the time. Testament eventually released the recording in 2010, revealing that the young Pollini had been unduly self-critical. Indeed, there are reasons to prefer these 1960 Études over his ‘approved’ 1972 Deutsche Grammophon remakes. Certain phrases transpire more impetuously, such as the right-hand runs in Op 10 No 8 and Op 25 No 2, together with a more delicately wrought Op 25 No 1, where Pollini plays the conventional A flat bass line on the fourth beat of bar 25 (he observed the less convincing Henle Urtext A natural in 1972). Similarly, the ‘Revolutionary’ Étude (Op 10 No 12) sports more rhetorical leeway in 1960, while its Op 25 counterpart in the same key proves less ‘notey’ next to the relatively hammered-out DG version.

American pioneers

By virtue of their technical sheen and unflappable poise, John Browning and Abbey Simon stood as American counterparts to Ashkenazy and Pollini in the Chopin Étude sweepstakes. Reviewing the original RCA LP edition, my late American colleague Harris Goldsmith found Browning’s accounts ‘slick, methodical and terribly typewriterish’. I see his point, yet the enhanced room-tone and tonal warmth of Sony/BMG’s digital refurbishing works towards Browning’s favour. Consequently, I have newfound appreciation for the dramatic impact of Browning’s ever-so-slight accelerations within the C sharp minor Op 10 No 4, his flexible alla breve conception of Op 10 No 6 and Op 10 No 11’s eloquent diction.

By contrast, Abbey Simon’s Chopin retains more old-school traits. He often relaxes the line in order to underscore a cadence or navigate a transition. You’ll notice felicitous shifts in voicing and dynamics that create novel yet plausible textural effects, such as the inner voices in Op 10 No 2’s accompaniment or Op 10 No 8’s counterlines. Like Vladimir Horowitz, Simon plays that étude’s last four chords quietly with a diminuendo, rather than adhering to Chopin’s forte marking; this is what Romantic-era pianists used to call a ‘reverse accent’.

Guilty pleasure: Cziffra’s sweep through Chopin’s Études is a one-off experience not to be missed (photo: Toshiba EMI)

Simon’s liberties, however, sound positively puritanical when measured alongside George Cziffra’s demented transgressions. The Hungarian pianist gooses up fortes and pushes crescendos to the brink, and fills out octaves with chords. He sweeps through arpeggios like a roller-coaster operator on LSD. He transforms Op 25 No 6’s eloquent accompaniment into a cha-cha, and suffuses Op 25’s last three selections with a flamboyance that might have made Liszt gasp. Cziffra’s impact can overwhelm and even exhaust, yet his joyful comportment saves the day. In all, Cziffra’s Études amount to a master acrobat executing a high-wire act without a safety net, and are so much fun to hear.

The 20th century’s last two decades saw a bumper crop of worthwhile Études cycles. The 76-year-old Earl Wild was more than up to the task at the time of his 1992 recording. One can take dictation from the veteran pianist’s scrupulous yet never rigid adherence to Chopin’s phrasings and dynamic indications, while his rounded, well-modulated sonority allows for no splinters or imbalances. Still, would Earl’s younger self have played the Études ‘Wild‑er’ in the spirit of his classic 1960s Rachmaninov concerto cycle and ‘Demonic Liszt’ album?

On the other hand, Dinorah Varsi’s 1981 Études showcase the late Uruguayan virtuoso at the top of her game. Her thoughtful parsing of Op 10 No 1’s cantus firmus bass lines nearly pulls focus from the majestic right-hand arpeggios, while her ‘Black Key’ Étude (Op 10 No 5) both sings and talks. Intriguing half-pedal effects in Varsi’s unusually brisk Op 10 No 6 foreshadow latter-day period-instrument interpretations, while the ‘Butterfly’ Étude (Op 25 No 9) conversely stands out for the pianist’s relaxed lilt. Last available in Genuin’s mammoth 35‑CD Dinorah Varsi ‘Legacy’ box-set, her Études can be accessed via streaming services.

Two noteworthy releases also stem from independent labels. Paraty recently reissued Véronique Bonnecaze’s Étude cycle first released by Arcobaleno in 2000. Her generally moderate tempos give her euphonic sonority and forceful melodic projection ample breathing room. Op 25 No 5’s curvy cantabiles and Op 10 No 9’s shapely left-hand accompaniment bear this out, as does Op 25 No 1’s shimmering soundscape, although one can carp over her predictable ritards at phrase ends (Op 10 No 11, for example). Yet it’s no small achievement that Bonnecaze’s well-schooled and well-groomed pianism holds its own in the face of formidable catalogue competition.

Juana Zayas’s 1983 account has a cult following

The same goes for the Cuban-born American pianist Juana Zayas. Her 1977 New York debut featured the complete Études, eliciting a rave review from The New York Times’ Harold C Schonberg, while her 1983 recording for the American Spectrum label (now available on CD from Music & Arts) acquired a cult following. The International Piano Quarterly’s summer 1999 issue (No 8) featured an extensive guide to the Chopin Études on disc, in which Donald Manildi understandably cited Zayas as his top choice. ‘She lavishes on all 24 pieces a quite fabulous amalgam of lyricism, wit, drama and sheer pianistic craft’, he wrote, and I couldn’t agree more. Zayas brings out each work’s specific character with a sense of variety that never spills over into wilfulness or eccentricity. Her technically comparable 2005 remake (also on Music & Arts) is less fresh and spontaneous.

Of the performances that William Barrington-Coupe pilfered for the Chopin Études disc credited to his wife Joyce Hatto, 17 are by Yuki Matsuzawa, with eight by Vardan Mamikonian. The latter’s sparkle, flair, mindful brilliance and occasional dryness might be described as a modern-day John Browning. Mamikonian favours classical reserve over unbridled romanticism, with an emphasis on clarity and symmetry. His virtues become increasingly apparent over repeated hearings. As for Matsuzawa, what’s not to love? You’ve got perfect fingerwork, fluent phrasing, impeccable timing, imaginative pedalling and discreetly novel voicings. There are no dead spots, no miscalculated tempos and no expressive tics. In other words, ‘Joyce Hatto’ at her best! One can purchase Matsuzawa’s Études as reasonably priced MP3 downloads, although second-hand dealers charge a pretty penny for the out-of-print physical product.

21st-century studies

The Chopin Études boom continues unabated in the present century. At one time some critics considered Murray Perahia to be at home in the Austro-German classics yet at sea in the virtuoso Romantic repertoire. You’d never know that from his Chopin Études. His bold, colourful, assured and fetchingly characterful yet texturally true interpretations yield nothing to his older internationally known rivals, further benefiting from Andreas Neubronner’s state-of-the-art production values. In his original review, Bryce Morrison wrote that Perahia ‘seizes on every difficulty and with all of his patrician mastery and style turns prose into poetry. Above all he possesses the ultimate luxury of possessing such a complete command of his instrument that he has unimpeded freedom of expression.’

However, I don’t’ share BM’s lukewarm opinion of Nikolai Lugansky’s solo debut for Erato. This was more than just another Chopin Études set by a new virtuoso on the block. Lugansky anchors his gliding Op 10 No 1 arpeggios with a pliable, singing bass line, while offsetting Op 10 No 2’s murmuring right-hand semiquavers with intelligently shaped left-hand chords. Similarly, your ear gravitates more towards Op 10 No 7’s playful left-hand accents and dynamic jolts than to Lugansky’s seamless right-hand double notes. He breezes through Op 10 No 8 like the featherweight champion of the world, complete with a concluding ‘reverse accent’. Silken renditions of the études in thirds, sixths and octaves grace Op 25, along with a ‘Winter Wind’ (Op 25 No 11) where melodic direction consistently drives the swirling right-hand patterns. I’d even overlook Lugansky’s arch and self-aware rubato in slower études in light of his overall excellence.

The late Nelson Freire’s gift for razzle-dazzle was long a known quantity by the time he signed to Decca. Although his Op 10 and Op 25 Étude sets appeared on separate releases, they should be discussed in tandem. Freire’s Études are more like real performances than carefully assembled studio specimens, which accounts for tiny finger slips and moments of rushing or blurred pedalling. Yet there are astounding moments: a torrential and effortless ‘Winter Wind’, double-note études teeming with chiaroscuro and two insouciant G flat études. Sometimes Freire falls victim to his creativity, as in the fustian Op 25 Nos 3 and 5, while the piano tuner must have taken a lunch break during Op 25 No 1.

No tuning problems hinder the securely regulated 1849 Érard that Tatiana Shebanova used throughout her period-instrument Chopin cycle for the Fryderyk Chopin Institute – not to be confused with the same pianist’s 10‑CD Chopin box-set issued by Dux in 2008, recorded on a modern concert grand. Shebanova takes full advantage of the Érard’s timbral distinctions in each register and the pedal’s limited sustaining power. She particularly revels in the long bass notes’ slightly nasal, woodwind-like quality (Op 25 No 7, Op 10 No 6). Each and every étude, in fact, testifies to Shebanova’s sound musicianship and mindful virtuosity, and are precious testaments of a pianist who left us all too soon.

Recent contenders

Soon after releasing her 2007 Chopin Études DVD, Valentina Lisitsa began uploading selections to YouTube, resulting in more than one million hits worldwide. Seven years later she re-recorded the Études for Decca, employing generally faster tempos, suaver phrasing and enough audacity to rival Cziffra. Op 10 No 4 may not be as intensely driven as Sviatoslav Richter’s, yet Lisitsa’s lightning reflexes and stinging accents leave the listener limp. Her glib and scatterbrained Op 10 No 8 begins with a prolonged opening trill and ends with a humongous ritard on the last four chords. She takes swan dives into Op 10 No 11, yet the power of her ‘Revolutionary’ Étude overshadows small rhythmic errors. She fares better in Op 25, where the E minor’s alluring textural chicanery recalls Géza Anda’s legendary shellac recording, and the C sharp minor’s vocally informed intensity lingers long after the music stops.

Alessandro Deljavan’s Études are similarly overloaded, yet more tapered and lyrically orientated. Unlike Cziffra, Deljavan underlines fanciful details to the point where they divert attention away from the bigger picture, as if he’s working too hard to be original. In Op 10 No 2, for example, he excavates melodies from the left-hand accompaniment, yet belabours his discoveries. Op 10 No 9’s tenutos are so obvious and predictable that expression becomes moot. And no apparent rhyme or reason governs Op 25 No 5’s textual contrivances. On the other hand, certain odd-sounding effects actually have a basis in the score, such as the heavy pedalling three bars before the end of the ‘Butterfly’ Étude. And Deljavan is unusually attentive to the left-hand staccatos in Op 10 No 3’s poco più animato section, where he curiously departs from the Urtext in bars 31 and 34, losing the sudden major-to-minor melodic shifts common to most performances.

If I don’t quite share Jeremy Nicholas’s unequivocal enthusiasm for Zlata Chochieva’s Études, there’s no questioning her prodigious capabilities. Her Op 10 especially impresses, highlighted by No 4’s ambidextrous interplay and variety of articulations, driving the music without pounding it to death. At the end of the ‘Black Key’ Étude, Chochieva waits a half-second before slamming down the concluding descending octaves in tempo; most pianists broaden this passage. She makes the ‘Revolutionary’ Étude’s salient points through rhythmic exactitude, decisive accents and a wide dynamic compass. Her Op 25 readings are blander and more sedate by comparison, although she catches fire in the final three selections.

The opposite holds true concerning Amir Katz’s sometimes hectic Op 10 and consistently involving Op 25 sets. But he does deliver a ravishing and spacious Op 10 No 10 that any Golden Age practitioner would be happy to claim, along with a gaunt, firmly etched ‘Winter Wind’ that channels Josef Lhevinne’s legendary recording (10/39, 3/21).

As for the 18-year-old Jan Lisiecki’s highly praised 2013 DG cycle, I remain nonplussed and underwhelmed. He is sensitive to a fault, and frequently holds back in measured tempos that would benefit from harder-hitting accents and shapelier bass lines. Lisiecki shares the habit of elongating opening up‑beats with François and (to a lesser extent) Perahia, although he short-changes Op 10 No 10’s quaver up-beat by a considerable margin. However, in the ‘Revolutionary’ Étude, Lisiecki is one of the few pianists to precede the final fortissimo two-handed descending run with a soft rather than loud C major chord on the down-beat, as Chopin indicates. And, like Lang Lang (Sony, 11/12), Lisiecki plays the ‘Butterfly’ Étude’s closing measures pianissimo and in tempo, as written, whereas most pianists impose a generic ritard.

Several LP versions remain ripe for reissue. I hope that the splendid Ilana Vered, Sequeira Costa and Miπosz Magin (8/73) cycles will eventually be digitised. Should the basic approaches of Wild and Lisiecki hold appeal, I direct listeners towards the more consistently poetic Malcolm Binns, whose out-of-print Pearl recording (1/96) is worth tracking down. A 2022 recital by the brilliant young American pianist Sara Daneshpour on YouTube features all 24 Études, with several Ligeti Études interspersed. Her playing conveys stupendous workmanship and natural musicality, plus a communicative immediacy that makes these well-worn pieces sound vital and new. Will a studio recording follow?

Considering my final recommendations, I waver between Murray Perahia and Juana Zayas, with the scales tilting towards Zayas, while Yuki Matsuzawa stands as the top download choice. Alfred Cortot’s genius, of course, occupies its own world. And Georges Cziffra’s Études remain an irresistible guilty pleasure.

The Top Choice

Juana Zayas

Music & Arts

The keyboard gods smiled down upon Juana Zayas when she brought her standard-setting Chopin Études to the studio in 1983. The music comes alive through her faultless tempo choices and her vividly detailed interaction between hands. Her insightful virtuosity taps into every aspect of Chopin’s aesthetic, from bravura and heroism to poignant introspection and songful poetry. Forty years later, this recording still stands as a point of reference.

The Historic Choice

Alfred Cortot

Naxos

Forget the wrong notes and smudges – Alfred Cortot was a genius. In his 1933/34 recordings set down in EMI’s Abbey Road Studios, Cortot’s proud declamation of melodies, soaring legato, boundless portfolio of articulations and very personal yet inimitable rubato transform Chopin’s Études into soul music.

The Acrobat

Georges Cziffra

Erato 

Hearing Georges Cziffra’s Chopin Études is like spending an hour at the circus, but even more fun than that. He doesn’t interpret the music so much as recast each piece in epic, volatile, daredevil terms. Yet behind Cziffra’s showmanship lies an authentic, sincere, joyful and utterly original musical spirit. Once you’ve heard Cziffra, you can’t unhear him!

The Download Choice

Yuki Matsuzawa

Novalis 

Each and every one of this Japanese pianist’s Études stands out for technical mastery, tasteful nuance, impeccably timed phrasing and transitions, and specificity of character. If you don’t believe that a relatively obscure pianist can both equal and surpass her internationally acclaimed rivals in familiar repertoire, the evidence speaks for itself.

This article originally appeared in the May 2023 issue of Gramophone magazine. Never miss an issue – subscribe to Gramophone today