Coincidentally, each of these American pianists made his recording in New York in June 1994. There, however, the similarity ends. Peter Serkin has made his name in twentieth-century music, and to be frank I feel he should stay with that and not dabble in Bach, of which he shows scant understanding. Oh, he can play all the notes fluently, and is very good at highlighting the voices in the canonic variations of the Goldberg; but the essential spirit of Bach completely eludes him. His is a superficial reading, more interested in exhibiting keyboard dexterity than in an appreciation of the music’s significance. He sometimes adopts impossibly un-Bachian speeds, racing breathlessly through Vars. 20 and 26; there is much romantic affettuoso playing, as in Var. 3 or with the enormous ritardando half-way through Var. 13; and his sentimental rubato in the famous G minor Var. 25 makes Landowska there seem positively austere. (I can imagine Bach both bewildered and squirming at it.) Without any repeats (except, for some reason, in the Quodlibet) there is room on the disc for the Italian Concerto. If one is going to play on the piano a work specifically designed for a harpsichord with two manuals contrasting in tone, it makes no sense to ignore all Bach’s indications of forte and piano voices and to display no awareness of the implied solo and ripieno sections of the concerto structure. Serkin scurries flippantly through the outer movements, treating the finale as a flimsy moto perpetuo; he gives a vulgar thump to the last chord of each, hanging on to it in a silly triumphant way for no less than seven seconds (he does the same in the French overture of the Goldberg). No, thank you.
It is a relief to turn to the performance by Edward Aldwell, whom I had not previously heard but whose reputation in the USA as a Bach specialist seems, to judge from this disc, well merited. He gives a thoughtful, sober interpretation marked by clear and incisive articulation, and always in good taste, without any lapse into exhibitionism. His tempos are well chosen and would have made sense to Bach, and his rhythmic control is admirably firm. He plays all the repeats except those in Vars. 12, 15, 21 and 24, which are unaccountably discriminated against. As might be expected from someone who has written a book on Harmony and voice-leading, his part-playing is full of interest, constantly bringing out different details (and in Var. 26 adding appoggiaturas the second time round) – though it is slightly perverse, in the repeats of the canons at the third and the sixth, to emphasize the non-canonic voice. Had it not been for romantic mannerisms in Vars. 13 and 15, I would have applauded this without reserve.'