Excellent point, Joe; yes, now that I think about it it’s very unlikely the pianists in my list would find it difficult. But at the same time, every time I search op. 53 on YouTube, a piece many consider the “touchstone” of the romantic piano literature and musicianship in that style, the same names come up over and over: Horowitz, Rubinstein, Richter, Gilels, Argerich, plus representative performances of relatively recent Chopin competition winners.
Here’s a case where my bias may be getting the better of me, pointing to the root of my question: to my ear, Rubinstein is on a completely superior plane in this piece, an altogether different category, almost as if nobody else understands it, or if they do, don’t have the ability to convey what they understand. The main motif, when he plays it (D-flat chord all the way through the initial A-flat chord’s resolution after an implied b-diminished harmony, basically 1.5 bars), Rubinstein makes the notes sing, with no percussiveness. It’s firm, but has a kind of “velvety” quality as if his hands are plunging into something with a soft rubbery texture. Not banged. And that motif, like the piece as a whole (excepting the two interlude sections, in E-flat and E major, which must be percussive), sings like a human voice. I don’t know what he’s doing, but in part it’s a layering of the harmonies throughout the phrase to make the whole thing breathe as a single unit. Every detail flows into the next, with just the right overlap (apparently pedal-produced), to make each note sing in the phrase as of all the notes are in a kind of chorus.
By contrast, all the other pianists seem to be engaged in some kind of percussive and athletic swinging at the piano, banging into it. All other interpretations or performances seem rustic and coarse compared to the stately majesty Rubinstein brings out. Not that this is a good comparison, but the impression of glory or majesty that he conveys is reminiscent of the famous tune in Elgar’s graduation-familiar Pomp and Circumstance march. It soars with a non-aggressive sweep, by allowing itself to breathe and sing in a natural-sounding, unforced way.
All this perhaps very awkwardly put, but that’s how I see the piece in Rubinstein’s performances compared the others, and have wondered if everybody else just disagree with R. interpretively, or if he’s just the only one capable of doing it.
In no other piece I can think of do I get this sort of an impression of one musician seeming to “own” the piece, everybody else falling vastly short, and can’t help wondering if this has to do with challenges in op. 53, and possibly explains other “superstars” not playing such a “touchstone” piece. I’m occasionally good at guessing pianists when I here them on the radio— but Rubinstein in Chopin, especially op. 53, I know in a second. With op. 53, I’d also detect Horowitz or Ashkenazy in a second, but based on how cacophonous it sounds compared to Rubinstein.