Kabalevsky's Third, his 'youth' Concerto, is the least ambitious and most enjoyable of his four piano concertos. The themes of all three movements, whether slowed down or speeded up, may bear a suspicious family likeness yet the writing has an infectious zing and joie de vivre. The opening pokes fun at Parisian blague and there is even a naughty dig at Beethoven's Emperor Concerto in the run up to the finale's 'epic' restatement of the principal idea. Such things would be less than captivating if the performance was inferior but in Emil Gilels you surely have a dream soloist. The recording (1954) may sound dated, the accompaniment (by the Large Radio and TV Symphony Orchestra) quaint, but Gilels's playing blazes with a virtuoso panache all his own. Note the rush of adrenalin at the first poco piu mosso, the dizzying spin through the cadenza or the effect of the pochissimo piu mosso in the second movement—like some rapidly accelerating carousel—and you will be reminded of unique musical and pianistic stature; one sorely missed.
Concertos Nos. 2 and 4 are altogether more inflated confections and even when played with an all-Russian mastery by Petrov and Popov respectively they hardly justify Murray McLachlan's claims (the Second Concerto is one of ''the treasures of twentieth-century piano literature'', ''tremendous impact'', ''spellbinding'' etc.) in his accompanying notes. To say, too, that the Second Concerto's cadenza contains ''more than a few references to Prokofiev's Second Piano Concerto'' is disingenuous (it is close to plagiarism) and it is surely little more than wishful thinking to state that the Third Concerto ''is performed as part of the standard Russian repertoire throughout the world''. Still, pianists will enjoy hearing Petrov whip up a mean virtuoso storm and delight in Popov's flexing of his gymnast's muscles in the skinny two-part writing of the Fourth Concerto. The music's clownish gestures and treatment are crude and rudimentary (and never more so than in the finale's attempted exoticism) but Kabalevsky's conducting both here and in the Third Concerto adds a special note of authenticity. Assorted 'noises off' in Petrov's broadcast performance add rather than detract from the impact of an exceptionally 'live' occasion. The recordings are all acceptably transferred, but some biographical information on Yuri Popov would have been welcome.'