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. . .
There are pianists whose playing is so predictable that if they fell into
a faint it would create a welcome diversion. Fischer could spring a surprise
at every note; he could also alarm you with his nerves, or make your hair
stand on end with his childish fancies (as in his dreadful cadenzas!).
There are pianists who hang on the music like parasites, and there are
the platform hyenas who devour masterpieces like carrion. Fischer was
a giver; he let out his breath and recommended his pupils to practise
exhaling every morning. (Inhaling, he said, was easy.) This 'musical exhalation'
was made possible by a singularly relaxed technique. Though it also gave
rise to some inaccuracies, these in the end mattered little; the gain
was overwhelming. . . . Fischer,
particularly after the last war, was afraid of the microphone. The recording
he made of Brahms's F minor Sonata, for example, gives only one glimpse
-- at the entry of the D flat major 'patriotic' theme in the last movement
-- of his real conception of that work. Fortunately, there are among his
records some which come fairly close to the reality of his playing. A
few even set a standard of unmannered perfection which transcends the
bounds of fashion. Best among his earlier records, in my opinion, are
a number of wonderful Bach interpretations, as well as the Schubert
Impromptus and the Mozart Concertos K. 466 (D minor) and K. 491 (C
minor)...
These 1938 recordings of the Schubert Impromptus are rightly held up by Brendel as examples of Fischer at his best. Each Impromptu should sound almost freely improvised - here that feeling is conveyed perfectly, along with a sense of inevitability, suggesting that there is no other way to continue each piece to its perfect conclusion. Rightly starred in the first UK edition of The Record Guide, this is the sound of a true master at work.
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