Having admired Fergus-Thompson's previous excursion into Scriabin's music on the Kingdom label (the Third Sonata, Two poems, Op. 32 and Vers la flamme, 6/88), I approached the first instalment in his projected survey of the complete piano music for ASV with eager anticipation. However, my overall reaction to this disc is one of mixed feelings. The biggest disappointment for me are the eight Etudes, Op. 42, though I hasten to add that my disappointment stems not from the technical delivery of these pieces, which is quite exemplary, but in Fergus-Thompson's somewhat flaccid and romantically glossy interpretation. As a point of reference I found myself returning to John Ogdon's long deleted 1973 EMI recording; a performance of extraordinary interpretative insight and one which, for me at least, seems to epitomize the volatile atmosphere that inhabits Scriabin's transitory and late music. If Ogdon sounds impetuous at times it's because of a genuine involvement with the music's elusive, flighty nature, but with Fergus-Thompson impetuosity is tempered into a rather dreamy, inhibited haze. The Fourth Sonata also suffers from too much soft-focus, and again I sensed a certain lack of involvement with Scriabin's euphoric writing. I do wish that EMI would reinstate Gavrilov's scintillating performance—of the recordings we've had of this work his was by far the most incandescent and exciting. But until such time as they do I would direct readers to Hakon Austbo's exciting and imaginative account on Simax.
Having been lulled into a rather disheartened state by the preceding items, Fergus-Thompson's accounts of the Fifth, Ninth and Tenth Sonatas came as something of a shock. These are most impressive, and they reaffirmed my initial feelings about Fergus-Thompson as a Scriabin interpreter. The performances are not beyond criticism—sometimes a degree more fire and impetuosity would not have gone amiss (particularly in the Ninth), but on the whole they reveal a far greater sympathy and involvement for Scriabin's peculiarly idiosyncratic sound-world. The late sonatas are notorious for their complex layering of inner musical strands, and these, together with Scriabin's neurotic, fluctuating changes of mood, are superbly handled. The Ninth doesn't quite have the same spine-tingling effect that Szidon's DG recording has (part of a three-disc set—see below), but Fergus-Thompson's probing account still has enough ectoplasmic glow to make the listener feel decidedly uneasy. The ethereal Tenth Sonata (perhaps one of Scriabin's strangest utterances) is very fine too, though compared with Szidon or Horowitz on CBS the overall mood is more subdued, emphasizing the languorous, rather than 'radiant', aspects of the work.
To sum up then, there are disappointments and discoveries to be had in equal portions. The recorded sound is good.'