Authoritative is the key word here. Whatever Pollini does is done with conviction as firm as his tone. Though aware that Chopin would not be Chopin without rubato, he never allows it to undermine the music's structure. In Sonata No. 2 his bold dynamic contrasts and purposeful, never lagging tread in the Funeral March itself, at once make that clear. For anyone wanting these sonatas on Compact Disc, he would be my prime recommendation. Less objective in style than the masterful Duchable (Erato), he enjoys fuller, riper-sounding reproduction. And though in no way more perceptive than Perlemuter (Nimbus 2109—not submitted for review), that touchingly unforced, unaffected septuagenarian has not his younger rival's sheer physical exuberance in movements like the Scherzo of the B flat minor Sonata or the finale of the B minor—besides sounding as if recorded in a large, reverberant acoustic.
Competition is of course more extensive on LP. Of couplings still available, Perahia's CBS record is outstanding in its respect for the classicist in Chopin, even if his tempos are sometimes as deliberate as the fiery Argerich's are questionably fast (DG 413 235-1GX2, 8/84—part of a two-LP set). He certainly avoids the over-impulsive, fitful reaction to passing detail that for me mars Lydia Artymiw's spirited performance of No. 3 (Chandos). But it is in separate issues of the two sonatas from Gilels (as firm in agitato as Pollini in the Second—HMV SLS290011-3, 6/84; part of a three-LP set—and more fancifully imaginative and tonally seductive in the Third—DG 2543 530, 2/84), and still more, from Ashkenazy, that I think Pollini encounters his main challenge. I'm bound to say that in both works I, personally, prefer Ashkenazy—not just for his more translucent sound-world (well caught in the Decca recording) but also for his slightly more yielding, more intimately gracious phrasing. While honours are more equally shared in the B flat minor Sonata I found Pollini's quavers less light and magical in the later work's Scherzo (nor do I like his martial-sounding octave challenge in its trio). His marginally faster tempo for the Largo does not allow him to convey quite so much sense of wonder as Ashkenazy, and in the finale, excitingly urgent as it is, I think he throws in just a bit too much too soon. Ashkenazy makes you more aware of the music's cumulative might. But as I said at the start, Pollini's aristocratically authoritative way of doing things is superb.'