Michelangeli once devoted a whole DG LP to Beethoven’s E flat major Sonata Op 7‚ not because his reading was unduly protracted but because the simplicity of the effect pleased him aesthetically. Writing in these columns in December 1971‚ Stephen Plaistow found the playing extraordinary‚ the reading less so. Noting the measured pacing of the Allegro molto e con brio and the chiselled calm of the Largo‚ con gran espressione‚ he concluded: ‘I think Beethoven wanted the interpreter to draw us right inside [these movements] with playing of exceptional intensity. Michelangeli leaves me on the outside looking in.’ Bryce Morrison had similar reservations when Philips reissued the recording as part of their Great Pianists of the 20th Century series (2/00). I rather liked the performance. Still‚ I am bound to confess myself slightly baffled by the fact that this live 1982 London account – the same reading‚ to all intents and purposes – is so much more involving. For the time being‚ I am inclined to give the credit to that mysterious third dimension: the benison great piano­playing can derive from the intense and sympathetic engagement of attentive ears. That this audience (unlike many one meets on record) is a truly listening audience is evident from the nature of its response to Michelangeli’s spellbindingly beautiful account of Debussy’s ‘Hommage à Rameau’; but I fancy I also hear that third dimension at work in the spaces between the notes in the Largo‚ con gran espressione of Beethoven’s Op 7. Beethoven’s Funeral March Sonata begins the 1982 programme. It is well placed since Michelangeli’s dispassionate manner suits both the work and the context. In a fascinating note‚ former BBC Radio 3 producer William Robson tells us that Michelangeli used two Steinways for the recital: a Model C for Beethoven‚ a Model D for Debussy. Amazingly‚ when the tuning had been completed after the best part of a day’s work‚ Robson asked if he could play them; even more amazingly‚ Michelangeli said yes. Robson reports: ‘They were like no others I had encountered: light and shallow touch‚ singing out into the RFH with a full tone‚ easily filling that huge space‚ and somehow there seemed to be almost no percussion from the hammers. Truly astonishing.’ He also relates how in 1959‚ as the BBC’s Peter Gould chatted with Michelangeli before the broadcast recital which yielded up this sensational recording of Ravel’s Gaspard de la nuit‚ Michelangeli absent­mindedly played the opening right­hand figuration of ‘Ondine’. To be able to conduct a conversation whilst playing a passage quite a few pianists who have recorded the piece can’t play properly borders on the uncanny. In the performance itself‚ manner and matter are perfectly aligned. ‘Scarbo’‚ Ravel’s ‘parody of Romanticism’‚ is hair­raising‚ truly alarming.