By Daniel Jaffé

Published: Tuesday, 27 February 2024 at 15:21 PM


Prokofiev’s five piano concertos present a significant span from his career. He performed his First Concerto (composed 1911) as a final year student in 1914, winning the St Petersburg Conservatoire’s ‘battle of the pianos’.

In the early 1930s his style was fully mature when he composed the still underestimated Fourth and Fifth concertos, their new depth of feeling anticipating such masterpieces as Romeo and Juliet and the Sixth Symphony.

Many performers and listeners have been attracted to his brilliantly orchestrated Third Concerto. The challenge of recording all five works, though, has stretched many pianists; not one complete set does justice to all five works, but there’s at least one which gives an engaging performance of four, with a moving account of one of Prokofiev’s most beautiful slow movements.

The best recording – Michel Béroff

Michel Béroff’s superb technique and intelligent approach to all he performs are qualities too easily taken for granted. Since this recording of 1974, so many dazzlingly performed and digitally recorded cycles have been released which offer apparently tempting alternatives.

Listening critically to all these recordings, though, quickly reveals how detailed and yet consistently far-reaching Béroff’s interpretations are. Kurt Masur and his Leipzig musicians match him, in the first four concertos at least, with some of the most beautiful orchestral playing.

Béroff (right) is equally convincing in the light-hearted First Concerto and the nightmarish Second: in the latter work he pays heed to Prokofiev’s narrante (in a declamatory style) instruction, and plays with a carefree quality which makes the descent into hell all the more pointed.

For the Fourth, written for the left-handed Paul Wittgenstein, Béroff’s bantering tone reveals its rarely heard charm even before we reach the lyrical slow movement. After all this superlative playing, it’s disappointing to find Masur unstirred by the Fifth’s pugilistic manner, missing the third movement’s con fuoco (with fire); but both he and Béroff capture the beauty of the slow movement’s rain-bedewed pastoral.

Overall, the set’s greatest strength is how it illuminates Prokofiev’s sensibility beyond brilliant virtuosity.