In the days of LP, Chopin’s Waltzes could be issued as a self-sufficient collection; no doubt, collectors will have the classic sets by Dinu Lipatti and Artur Rubinstein on their shelves. These days, a stand-alone CD of the Waltzes would be considered rather short measure, and Stephen Kovacevich has had the attractive idea of adding Ravel’s Valses Nobles et Sentimentales to his new version of the Chopin group. While Chopin’s glittering waltzes were composed at a time when the waltz was a highly popular contemporary dance, Ravel’s set – in the composer’s words ‘following the example of Schubert’ – evokes memories of a bygone era, and uses a fairly dissonant harmonic language, a fact more evident in the original version for piano than in the orchestration. Whether the opening waltz is meant to sound as fierce as it does in Kovacevich’s hands is debatable; he seems to be saying ‘welcome to the twentieth century’ with it - to my ears it sounds brusque and over-emphatic. It’s a pity, as the later waltzes are beautifully realised, especially the epilogue, where hints of the earlier waltzes flit across the stage, combined in a mood of unsentimental nostalgia. Kovacevich’s playing in the Chopin set is a real pleasure to encounter; indeed, this is the most enjoyable Chopin collection that I’ve come across in a long time. Rather than following the order in which they were published, Kovacevich chooses to play them in chronological order, which makes for a varied and tonally satisfying sequence. His fabulous technique is always put at the service of the music, and this often nervy-sounding pianist has rarely sounded so relaxed on record. There’s always a sense of spontaneity about his playing, of ‘this is how I’ll do it today’. Endearingly, he writes that ‘…I know that I play (Op. 34/3) too fast, but there it is: a moment of excessive (or expressive) exuberance.’Everything is played with obvious affection, elegance and élan, but there is not a trace of the self-regarding mooning that so often afflicts Chopin playing. Kovacevich has always been a rather vocal pianist, and the more strenuous moments are accompanied by a noise that sounds like my vacuum cleaner; the climax of Op. 34/1 is somewhat disfigured by his growling, but elsewhere I can’t say that it bothered me much. The recorded sound is full-bodied (it was made at Potton Hall in Suffolk), and Kovacevich’s piano is a superb specimen.

Reviewed by Sandy Matheson