'Transcription' means what you want it to mean; and the authors of these transcriptions did indeed want different things. Liszt, for example. In the Bach he never strays from the straight and narrow, sounding as if two players were reading from the organ original (an admirable way for two unequal pianists of enjoying duets: the stronger one plays the manual parts, the weaker the pedal part, an octave down). In the Schumann he is a little more free; and so too in the Chopin (one of his charming Polish Songs). And when Liszt reaches Paganini, virtuosity of the first order takes over full control: no humanly rung bells ever rang like this, but would it not be marvellous if they did?
Turn the record, and again plenty of variety. Tausig as a composer will be unknown to most readers, and I must suggest that in that respect most readers are very well off; nevertheless, here is plenty of silent-cinema music in a piano arrangement which I expect Tausig could play, and I know de Waal can play, and I am sure most of the rest of us could not. Balakirev's arrangement of the innocent song by Glinka comes as a welcome relief, well placed after the Tausig and before the Strauss. For even if the Strauss is familiar enough, Godowsky's arrangement is not: totally unfaithful to the composer, and totally absorbing as here and there the tunes emerge, just, from a fascinatingly decorative background: shimmering, colourful, brilliant.
De Waal takes it all in his stride, as he does the whole programme: he offers superbly accomplished playing, in a degree which allows full enjoyment of everything on offer, and he receives a very decent recording. For a listener who enjoys such piano virtuosity (and who is ready to have his heart broken if he is a pianist himself!), recommendation is self-evidently called for.'