Piano Competition winners come and go but the search for pianists who can sustain a convincing‚ long­term career remains intense as ever. Juries do not possess a crystal ball and can only judge what they hear at a given time‚ so only time will tell whether Stanislav Ioudenitch‚ Olga Kern‚ Maxim Philippov and Antonio Pompa­Baldi‚ joint first and second prize winners respectively of the 11th Van Cliburn International Piano Competition‚ will join the ranks of artists such as Lupu‚ Perahia‚ Argerich‚ Pollini and Zimerman. Yet if the Cliburn has a poor track record and has been more celebrated for extravagance than quality‚ even Doubting Thomases will take heart when they listen to Harmonia Mundi’s excellently presented three­disc tribute. I last heard Ioudenitch and Kern as a jury member at the New Orleans and Pinerolo International Piano Competitions‚ where both were first prize winners. A greater contrast would be hard to imagine. Ioudenitch‚ for all his seriousness and proficiency‚ lacks musical definition and character. He is disappointingly detached in Liszt’s Spanish Rhapsody‚ which positively cries out for the sort of glitter and voltage that makes‚ say‚ György Cziffra unique in such music. His Schubert (the third Moment musical) is clipped and assured but lacks poetry and tonal variety. His choppy Sinfonia is hardly in keeping with Bach’s grave adagio opening to his C minor Partita‚ and although Rachmaninov’s Second Sonata is given in the 1913 rather than the truncated 1931 version (a tribute‚ intentional or otherwise‚ to Van Cliburn’s unforgettable 1960 Moscow performance)‚ it is more nimble than heroic‚ confirming a sense of a young pianist who has‚ so to speak‚ seen it all before‚ whose course is essentially set on pilot. Olga Kern‚ on the other hand‚ is volatile to a degree and it is no exaggeration to say that she already possesses something of Martha Argerich’s early fire and unpredictability. From her‚ Scriabin’s Ninth Sonata is a true ‘Black Mass’ or ‘Picture of Dorian Grey’ (a description quoted in Jed Distler’s witty and illuminating notes)‚ and the finale of the Barber Sonata is hurled at one like a thunderbolt. Bold and omniverous‚ she swallows everything whole‚ her towering technique‚ character and passion giving a hypnotic force and intensity to every page. Hear her at 3'14" in the Wagner­Liszt Liebestod calming violently inflamed passions before allowing the music to soar to its dizzying climax with breathtaking mastery and aplomb. Too restless in temperament to be a true Schubertian‚ she is none the less a talent in a thousand. Described as ‘a rising star’ by the Boston Herald‚ she has surely already risen. Then there is Maxim Philippov in Rachman­inov’s Second Book of Preludes‚ making out a masterly case for an aristocratic as well as extrovert composer. Enviably poised in the vortex of Rachmaninov’s emotions‚ he takes all the time in the world to make his points and is as lucid and musicianly as he is technically impeccable – a rare combination where Rachmaninov is concerned. In extreme contrast (you can sense the jury’s dilemma)‚ Pompa­Baldi is frisky to the point of idiosyncrasy in Scriabin’s Fourth Sonata‚ yet gloriously alive to every twist and turn of the composer’s mad­cap rhetoric. The finale of Chopin’s Second Sonata is as macabre as the ‘Caprice italien’ from Poulenc’s Napoli is light­hearted and dazzling. And‚ despite a rhythmic misreading in the principal subject of Prokofiev’s First Etude‚ his performance of music described by Distler as a ‘slashing‚ fiery toccata’ could hardly be more propulsive or acute. So‚ the days when it was whispered‚ ‘take your quiet pieces to Leeds and your loud ones to the Cliburn’ are surely over‚ and America’s most publicly celebrated competition can take pride in its 11th jamboree. A notable occasion‚ it allowed for free choice of repertoire and‚ as these records make clear‚ included a wide and scintillating variety of gifts and styles.