Unusually, this disc is dedicated to a manager, the late Reinhard Paulsen, who handled Argerich’s affairs for more than 40 years and Kremer’s for 25. He worked long and hard to bring this starry team together – many UK readers will recall the cancellations! – and for those privileged to attend, their Tokyo concert was no doubt the event of a lifetime. How well it survives the transition to disc will depend partly on your attitude to the sound. In the Shostakovich in particular (a performance conceived on a very public scale), the close miking and extreme separation make for a somewhat intimidating effect. Forget desolate atmosphere, smoothly unfurling lines and careful tonal gradations; what is offered here is the inspiration of the moment – unpredictable and (ceaselessly) intense. There is an undeniable lack of intimacy. The rollercoaster Scherzo works terrifically on its own terms, so long as you can accept Argerich’s characteristically personal inflexions. There is no sense of an ensemble on the verge of collapse a la Bekova Sisters, and perhaps you found Kopelman, Berlinsky and Leonskaja almost boringly articulate? That said, DG’s finale is, to these ears, astonishingly, self-defeatingly overwrought, painful listening in quite the wrong way.
Surprisingly, perhaps, the Tchaikovsky seems less exhibitionistic, the microphones close yet not so intrusive. Sample track 10 to find Argerich at her very best, skittishly dispatching the third variation of the second movement. After the excesses of the Shostakovich, the reading as a whole is almost classical. Not that it is in any sense lightweight, for there are moments of great intensity and concentration. The secret of its success lies in Argerich’s remarkable reticence: she avoids overcrowding the textures with piano figuration. The sombre, reserved opening sets the tone suitably and the first movement unfolds logically, if at a leisurely pace. The more problematic theme and variations, presented in its lengthy, uncut form, is carefully handled so that the climactic moments do not come too soon. Instead the real fire is saved for the final variations and coda, where the springs are uncoiled with considerable force.
For all the fiery musicianship of the present trio, I would still be drawn to the greater vitality and naturalness of the alternative coupling from Repin, Yablonsky and Berezovsky. Although the latter’s piano tends to dominate the mix, the overall effect is sonically fresher. On the other hand, the all-stars include their encore piece, a delightful concoction of sneaky nuances and delayed resolutions extracted from Tchaikovsky’s back-catalogue, tailor-made for ‘Le trio de choc’. A generous package then, with an accompanying article by Anne-Catherine Dutoit, that will be a must for die-hard fans of the pianist. The choice is yours.'