It took Franz Liszt 26 years to produce the final version of his Twelve Studies in Increasing Degree of Difficulty. The earliest version dates from 1826, but the pianist-phenomenon decided that these pieces were not difficult enough. Other pianists could still manage to play them! The most challenging version of the expanded and elaborated studies appeared in 1837, but the final version of 1852 – dedicated to Czerny – brought a reduction in technical obstacles. Stretches of over a tenth were eliminated, for example. 

While these 12 Etudes and the others in this recital were designed to showcase Liszt’s superhuman technique, Liszt the poet is still in evidence. Additional to the pyrotechnics lie delicate textures, presaging those of Debussy in terms of color if not harmony. These textures require all the subtlety of nuance that the later composer would demand. 

Recordings have tended to lean towards one or other extreme. Generally, young pianists use the Etudes to show off their pianistic skill: the young Bolet, Cziffra and Ovchinnikov come to mind. Older pianists stress the poetry and musicality, like Arrau and late Bolet, both in their 70s when they recorded these works. Arrau’s Transcendental Etudes have been described as magisterial, and that’s the problem. Liszt doesn’t need inverted commas around his big statements nor a wringing out of every drop of schmaltz from his lyrical themes. 

“Trifonov’s technique is so polished as to be a mere means to an end“

Trifonov, a contemporary wünderkind with an old soul, displays the detachment of a colourist, which suits the pieces perfectly. His technique is so polished as to be a mere means to an end, while his refusal to overdo Liszt’s effects pays off. You can barely listen straight through to Cziffra’s excesses, but Trifonov leaves you wanting more. His No 5, Feux Follets (Wills o’the wisp) is full of light and shade, bringing Liszt’s whirling vision to life. No 9, Ricordanza (Remembrance) is gently inward-looking but never mawkish, while the formidable No 12, Chasse-neige (Snow-plow) graphically suggests a snowstorm without ever barnstorming.

The Six Paganini Studies reveal the breadth of Trifonov’s technique. In the best-known, No 3, La Campanella, and in the taxing repetitions of No 4, Arpeggio, Trifonov wears his stamina lightly. When he throws himself into the keyboard-wide climaxes of the variations of Paganini’s famous A Minor theme in No 6, he stands alongside the greatest thundering virtuosos, yet ensures the music never descends into a wall of noise. This is superlative music making.