Whenever pianists or piano-buffs get to talking about Liszt it is not long before Richter's recording of ''Feux follets'' is mentioned. It is a truly amazing account, in which some disembodied controlling spirit seems to hover over the keyboard while his digital minions work with a kind of bewitched autonomy. Hearing the whole recital through it is evident that the magic is prepared for by the ending of the second Valse oubliee, the kind of perfection not even the greatest artist can be sure will materialize, and that the miracles in ''Feux follets'' embolden Richter to take risks in ''Harmonies du soir'' he would not dream of in the studio.
This is the hallmark of the entire programme, in fact; how providential that it should all be containable on a single CD. Richter throws caution to the winds right from the start of Pictures. Being Richter many of the risks come off, being human plenty of them do not, and in the cold light of day several of the movements can be seen to be a mess. But once the atmosphere has been sensed—and the raptness of Richter's Schubert is as good a place to start as the sparkle of his Liszt one soon comes to realize why the whole issue is so special.
Another good reason for not starting with the Mussorgsky is that it sounds roughly as though recorded next to an aeroplane propeller testing-ground; digital remastering has had little or no impact here. The rest of the recital comes closer towards twentieth-century standards of recording.'