As JOC has observed, ''despite the title, Liszt's 12 Transcendental Studies are not all bravura display''. True, but unless that element is present in reasonably convincing measure there is not much point in playing them at all. For the gymnastic dimension is as central to Liszt's conception as it is, say, in certain virtuoso ballet roles, and while dancers towards the end of their career may have all the experience and artistic insight in the world, if they are wise they will avoid the pyrotechnic display numbers.
Which immediately brings up the problem of the comparative versions listed above. Joan Chissell rightly singles out Bolet's ''Ricordanza'' (Decca) for praise—even though it erases most of Liszt's notated pauses, it is easily the most poetic and evocative of the three versions under consideration. But she adds that ''the disappointments come in the more demonstrative numbers'' (think about it!) and I can think of no more apt summary.
With Arrau (Philips) the problem is not in the basic agility, which is indeed remarkable for a then 74 year old, but with clarity and tonal finesse. There is too much dull pressure in the sound, not enough resonance, much of the texture is impossibly bass-heavy, with a jangly high treble and congested recording quality. The one outstanding interpretation is of ''Vision'', where impressively rumbling storm-clouds compensate for an inadequately projected melody. (In fairness I should refer you to the February 1978 and June 1986 issues of Gramophone for different assessments of this recording.)
Ovchinikov enters the arena with youth on his side, plus the determination to make his mark in repertoire that most suits his temperament. It can be said straight away that his is a superb achievement, comfortably outclassing Arrau and Bolet in just about every department. The finger-loosening ''Prelude'' is an impressive presentation of credentials (though I regret the slight drop of tension before the concluding arpeggios) and the untitled No. 2 is a whirlwind of brilliance. ''Paysage'' brings the first test of Ovchinikov's poetic resources, and although there is a hint of diffidence (as there is more seriously in ''Ricordanza'') the shaping is more natural than Bolet's and the sonority more refined than Arrau's (the latter I feel misconstrues the harmonic direction towards the climax). Fine virtuosity in ''Mazeppa'', even if caution is never really thrown to the winds, is followed by a slightly disappointing ''Feux-follets'' the first instance where EMI's marginally overreverberant recording causes problems, and there are one or two emergency rubatos here.
''Vision'' is curiously gentle, almost tame, although again the sense of power without overaggression compels admiration. With ''Eroica'' the interpretation is back on course, and ''Wilde Jagd'' sweeps by with breathtaking panache. ''Ricordanza'', as I have suggested is not so special, and ''Harmonies du soir'' is likewise too realistic; in between them the F minor No. 10 goes splendidly, with a particularly exciting change of character as the almost Chopinesque first page gives way to the authentic Lisztian declamation of the second. ''Chasse-neige'' brings the set to an impressive conclusion.
Ovchinikov is known to regard the Studies as an integrated cycle with an autobiographical narrative thread. I can't say that registers with any particular force in the playing. What does come across is some extremely fine pianism, and EMI's recording, despite the tendency to over-reverberance noted above, does it full justice. The instrument too is top-notch, thank goodness. I have not gone through comparing with the classic recordings of the past, and I don't doubt that one could compile a truly impressive list of individual alternatives (Richter's ''Feux-follets'' for one—Philips (CD) 420 774-2PLC, 6/88). Should Berman's unsurpassed Melodiya set return to the catalogues (once available on an EMI two LP set) Ovchinikov would have a formidable rival, but for the time being he has set the standard, and set it high.'