Splendidly represented as Schumann's piano music now is in the CD catalogue, Faschingsschwank aus Wien was conspicuous by its absence. So I'm glad Bunin chose it for his centre-piece. His performance is immediately enjoyable for its buoyancy its transparent lightness of texture and fanciful carnival spirit—not least in the opening movement. Neither here nor in the Scherzino or finale is Schumann's figuration ever allowed to sound thick or patterned. But exuberantly imaginative as it all is, what we hear is very much Bunin's Schumann. Score-followers will not fail to notice a lot of small liberties in matters of timing and dynamics. This is most challengeable in the Romanze, whose G minor opening section he plays almost twice as slowly as the suggested metronome marking, with a sudden change to faster tempo (unrequested in the score) for the assuaging central episode in C. I'm also bound to add that I prefer Schumann's to Bunin's dynamic gradations in the Intermezzo, though here his divergences don't so markedly alter the movement's character. Despite its undeniable freshness and immediacy, the Arabeske, too, is questionably capricious in timing, with both minore episodes just a little faster than Schumann's etwas langsamer would seem to imply, and the two Clara-inspired reveries disproportionately slow.
It is nevertheless in Kinderszenen that Bunin's present artistic immaturity is clearest. Not until the last two pieces, both beautifully done, is he prepared to let the music speak for itself. Elsewhere I was far too conscious of an interpreter at work. In his very fast and dashing ''Haschemann'' and ''Ritter vom Steckenpferd'' he certainly forgets Schumann's injunction to Clara to forget that she is a virtuoso when playing all these simple recollections of childhood. It gives me no pleasure to disparage such liveliness of mind and finger. But in sum, a little less self-indulgence in this composer would not come amiss from one so young. The recording itself is excellent.'