Pollini's DG disc of Debussy's 12 Etudes (3/94) received a mixed reception, praised by some for its unfaltering seriousness and command but questioned by others for a lack of imaginative freedom, for a singularity that omitted too many facets of Debussy's multi-faceted genius. The same could be said, to an even greater extent, about the present ungenerous offering. It is hardly a question of quality rather than quantity for Pollini's performances which, with their almost palpable energy and concentration, are eerily one-sided, almost as if in straining for the ultimate Olympian mastery he has lost contact with the central qualities of Debussy's sound world, its vision and variety. Mischievousness, wit, charm, sparkle, volte-face, a kaleidoscopic shifting of inner and outer life, are sacrificed for more limited and strenuous virtues. There are, of course, some notable exceptions.
The sense of elemental forces unleashed in 'Ce qu'a vu le vent d'ouest' is visceral and intimidating but even 'La fille aux cheveux de lin' sings as if part of an endangered species, aware of forces threatening her innocence. 'Des pas sur la neige' may be glace but it is hardly triste, and time and again subjective, all-Debussian demands such as aerien ('La danse de Puck') or caressant ('Voiles') are sacrificed for a colder objectivity. There is something grimly determined about the serenader's advance in 'La serenade interrompue', too little of Debussy's subtle and mock-Hispanic play, and it is surely limiting to find the composer's most magical island more serieuse than joyeuse, the final exultance left too late to compensate for a central section neither endoyant nor expressif. Those in search of more interior qualities will turn to the incomparable Gieseking and, for a more modern recording, to Zimerman's crystalline but ardently committed Gramophone Award-winning discs.'