No pianist other than the composer himself has been more intimately associated with Rachmaninov's Second Piano Concerto and Paganini Rhapsody than Moiseiwitsch. And, as a corollary, no other pianist has played either work with such a feline ease and sensitivity. Listen to his cantabile in the concerto's second subject, the grace and impetus peculiarly his own. His caressing warmth and fine-toned fleetness form a vital contradiction to that outwardly stern and enigmatic figure (''Benno plays appassionata'', ''Benno plays tranquillo'', ''Benno plays agitato'', all with the same inscrutable, poker-faced exterior, ran the gist of a famous cartoon). Hear him snapping off the ends of phrases with playful aplomb in Var. 6 of the Paganini, or qualifying the darkness of the following Dies irae with witty voicing. His 'improvement' of Rachmaninov's score at the close of Var. 9 is wholly in keeping with his playfulness and repartee; and his quicksilver course through No. 15 would set all pianistically attuned hearts aflutter. Did Moiseiwitsch follow his own naughty advice to Rachmaninov, and drink a glass of Benedictine shortly before playing this work? The odd fluff or lack of co-ordination (all these performances were, of course, recorded before today's far from magnificent obsession with an artificial accuracy and perfection) suggests several possibilities, but Moiseiwitsch always gives us virtuosity with a human face, as subtly involving as it is dextrous.
Then there is the glorious run of solo items (only Lilacs, dating from 1948, is missing). The Scherzo from A Midsummer Night's Dream has always been high on all great pianists' choices for their desert island, and who but Moiseiwitsch could ravish the senses so completely in the G minor Prelude's central ebb and flow? His G sharp minor Prelude rivals the composer's 1921 recording (RCA, 3/93) in its poetic resilience and rapidity of reflex, while the E minor Moment musical provides a suave, sinister and oddly compulsive alternative to the usual Siberian uproar offered by other less engaging Russian pianists such as Gavrilov or Berman.
The transfers are highly successful and the accompanying booklet includes a superb photograph of Moiseiwitsch, his deep-set eyes and expressive all-Russian features once more belying his celebrated remote, on-stage persona. Here, then, is rich confirmation of Josef Hofmann's view (''a natural pianist in the romantic tradition'') and of Rachmaninov's awe and affection. R1 '9510165'