The story of Andre Tchaikovsky(1910-1981) is extraordinary. In the words of the song, it leaves you 'bewitched, bothered and bewildered.' An ultimate protegee, he exhibited gifts that were both a blessing and a curse; his playing was touched with genius, but his personality was obsessive and disjunct. At an early age he could quote virtually any line from Shakespeare(a lifelong preoccupation) and he offered the whole of Bach's 'Goldberg' Variations as an encore, a punishment for what he saw as his audience's lack of attention . He could be rude and aggressive, notably to those, including Artur Rubinstein, who supported him, though loyal to a close circle of friends. These included Fou T'song, Stefan Askenase and Tamas Vasary, the dedicatees of several of his 'Inventions' opus 1. He also resented his name which changed from Robert Andrzej Krauthammer to Andrzej Robert Jan Czajowski and finally to Andre Tchaikovsky, reminding him of a Russian composer he despised and never performed. The story of his parents death in the Nazi camps and his own escape from the Warsaw ghetto makes for harrowing reading, and his wish to have his skull used in the grave scene from Hamlet after his death at the age of forty-six provides a final touch of the tragic and absurd.
This makes Ondine's premiere recordings of both the Concertos and the Sonata of exceptional interest, quite apart from Tchaikovsky's stature as a pianist(there were many who thought his third prize in the 1956 Queen Elizabeht Competition in Brussels was a betrayal, that his playing was of greater interest and character than the first and second prize winners, Vladimir Ashkenazy and John Browning.) But there is rich compensation in the brilliant and committed performances by Peter Jablonski and Lukasz Borowicz.
The First Concerto's mournful opening remembers consciously or otherwise the 'adagio mesto' from Samuel Barber's Piano Sonata(1949), the solo part closely integrated with an elaborate orchestral texture. Jablonski throws off filagree work with magical dexterity and, throughout, the sombre mood is ideally caught.
The Second Concerto was premiered by Radu Lupu, a daunting task even for an artist of his stature and, again, there is little respite from Tchaikovsky's tortured and febrile idiom.
The Sonata received its first performance by the composer in Chicago in 1969 and was heard, most oddly for many members of the audience, within the context of Bach, Beethoven and Chopin.
Ondine's sound and balance is ideal, and their accompanying essay by Anastasia Belina is warmly appreciative.
Bryce Morrison