Among the very sloppiest of the great pianists of the first half of the twentieth century was
Alfred Cortot. As demonstrated in page after page and piece after piece of this two-disc set of
Chopin's etudes, preludes, and ballades, there wasn't much that wasn't beyond
Cortot. From his fumble-fingered C major Etude of Opus 10 through his bashed and crashed C minor Etude of Opus 25,
Cortot is out of his league in any line faster than sixteenth notes at an Allegro tempo and any chord requiring more than five fingers. And yet, as these performances so amply prove,
Cortot was still undeniably one of the great pianists of the first half of the twentieth century -- and certainly one of its very greatest
Chopin players. In the more poetic and inward preludes, in the more lyrical and less rhetorical pages of the ballades, and in the more evocative and less virtuosic passages of the etudes,
Cortot plumbs emotional and musical depths that note-perfect pianists often miss. Try his beautifully sustained bel canto melody in the E minor Prelude or his hushed and radiant second theme from the G minor Ballade -- then try to disregard its mauled and maimed recapitulation and its battered and broken closing pages. But certainly try
Cortot's
Chopin. Although his sloppy style of piano playing has fallen from favor, there are more things on heaven and earth than are reckoned by note-perfect pianists. Monopoly's remastered sound from the '30s and '40s originals is distant but clean and clear as a bell. While not warm stereo or crisp digital, the honesty and reality of these recordings is in no way aesthetically inferior.