Each item in this imaginative recital strikes sparks off its neighbours. At the recital’s still heart, the second of the Takemitsu pieces is dedicated to the memory of Messiaen, previously represented by his formidably difficult Canteyodjaya (1948). Next up are atmospheric, time-suspending memorial tributes to Takemitsu himself from Oliver Knussen and Peter Lieberson. Lieberson’s title track should have wide appeal, and although his Fantasy (1974-75) is altogether more rebarbative and clunky in style, its abandoned (in every sense) avant-gardism might still convince you in a performance as fervent as this. Expect some grunts from the pianist and not a few protests from his instrument.
The Stefan Wolpe sequence includes music Serkin has championed before on disc, but few will complain: this is one emigre composer who remains barely known to non-specialists. Wolpe’s abstract expressionism is pepped up by a rhythmic exuberance derived from diverse popular and ethnic elements which he encountered prior to his arrival in America. His pupil, Charles Wuorinen, brings down the curtain with a Bagatelle (1987-88) more substantial and wide-ranging than its name suggests. Throughout, Serkin’s virtuosity goes hand in hand with a rare delicacy and command of colour.
No matter that the microphones occasionally seem rather close (Serkin’s coolly luminous account of the Webern is not flattered). The generally helpful booklet-notes cannot spell Haydn, but this is a most stimulating release. It gives you the illusion of attending a live event, even though some of the material has been in the can for six years.'