Records of this quality enter a reviewer's life like some dazzling ray of sunshine. True, you don't have to be Dr Watson to ferret out the sources of Kabalevsky's inspiration (Scriabin's Tenth Sonata in the festivamente luminoso exultance on the fifth page of the First Sonata, Shostakovich's Thirteenth Prelude and Fugue in the Recitative and Rondo, Prokofiev's Sixth and Seventh Sonatas in the Second Sonata). Yet while it is difficult not to accuse Kabalevsky of near plagiarism, his writing is so enjoyable and pianistically dazzling that virtually all is forgiven, particularly when it is played by a pianist of Artur Pizarro's calibre.
Despite the greatest imaginative freedom his performances have an imperious sweep and continuity while his sonority is gloriously rich and full-blooded throughout. How he revels in the determinedly modernist stance of the First Sonata's opening (memories of Scriabin's First Sonata notwithstanding) and in the central Andante semplice his rubato is hauntingly supple and stylish. Most of all, listen to him in the whirling toccata figurations of the Second Sonata, where the second subject has a touch of vaudeville Poulenc, and you will hear playing of a truly awe-inspiring brilliance, brio and romantic relish. The Four Preludes, Op. 5 offer a fascinating amalgam of styles, before we are whirled away in the more familiar pages of the Third Sonata. Here Pizarro's performance enters a competitive field with legendary recordings by Moiseiwitsch (2/49, long due for transfer from 78s) and Horowitz. Yet even in such company he holds his head up high, playing with the ease, flexibility and magisterial command of a born virtuoso.
The idea of a recital entirely devoted to Kabalevsky may not initially lift the spirits, but try this one and you will surely be converted. The accompanying notes often reminded me of Oscar Wilde's quip about the sort of person who has nothing to say, and says it, but the recordings are of demonstration quality. A truly outstanding and richly enterprising issue.'