The concerto starts with a faintly anonymous presentation of the first theme, redeemed somewhat by a good sense of momentum. To build on this the first piu mosso needs to register rather less abruptly than it does, and the rather congested sound quality of the recording does not help matters, particularly as regards orchestral fortes, though the pianist's excellent articulation certainly keeps one's interest alive. Feltsman's spinning-out of the second subject group is arguably more contorted than poetic, and the impression grows of an interpretation too closely focused on the page in hand, lacking a broader view of the unfolding drama.
And so it goes on. There are only a few things to take issue with—no vivacissimo in the final stages of the last movement (but others manage to get away with the same thing convincingly enough), a slowing for the last couple of bars which seems quite nonsensical; and two of the composer's own abominable cuts—the two bars at the highpoint of the first movement cadenza (Feltsman, along with Rachmaninov, Horowitz and Bolet, takes the more lightweight option) and an E flat major episode in the middle of the finale. On the whole Feltsman's pianistic control compels admiration. He is a commanding player, and as on his CBS solo recital ((CD) M2K44589, 5/88) he displays sufficient temperament and imagination to confirm his potential as a considerable artist. The slow movement is beautifully voiced and the build-up to its central climax is terrific.
But without a greater sense of drive, sweep, call it what you will, the outer movements are ultimately unsatisfying. This is, after all, a live performance, and that holds out the promise of something more than usually daring, more than usually abandoned to spontaneous communication. Yet Feltsman seems not less but more conscious of the microphones, more determined to rein himself in and avoid risk. The later stages of the Rhapsody sum up my feelings—a truly breathtaking flourish just before Var. 23, but then too little sense of surge or light-headed abandon—this finale could in principle have been placed anywhere earlier in the work. Feltsman is still establishing a presence. How impressive a presence we will only really know when he dares to let go.'