Hungaroton, the state-owned record company in Fischer's home country, re-released her complete Beethoven sonata cycle (given a new packaging) and other recordings made for the company ("The Centennial Collection") last year to commemorate her 100th birthday, yet the real highlight of Hungaroton's commemoration effort is the first-ever release of bootleg recordings of her live concert in Budapest (1977, 1978) and Szolnok (1994, her last concert). Included in this release are Fischer's performances of works for which no other recorded evidence exist - Chopin's Ballade No. 3 and Sonata No. 2; Schumann's Sonata No. 1. There is also the only recording available at the moment of Fischer's recording of Schubert's Impromptu in B flat, Op. 135 No. 3, played in a concert in Budapest in 1977 (This work was included in the programme of Fischer's concert in Moscow in 1951 - the live recording, available some years ago on a CD released by the pirate label Dante, can no longer be found). The existence of these live concert recording owe entirely to the effort and perseverance of an ardent Fischer fan named Anna Dévény, who captured these concert using a portable tape recorder. The sound of these bootleg recordings, inevitably, is less than ideal, but Fischer's prowess, imagination and inspiration are on their fullest display when performing live in front of an audience and without any knowledge at all of herself being recorded. Taken together, this is truly precious and valuable release that no doubt adds significantly to our knowledge and appreciation of Fischer.
Telling us more about this milestone release is Lynn René Bayley, another ardent Fischer fan, in a review published in the March/April 2015 issue of the Fanfare magazine:
"This first-ever release of live concert material by Annie Fischer is titled Encore In Concert, and as the notes relate it is due to the perseverance of one Anna Dévény that we have these documents at all. Fischer was notoriously microphone-shy, even more so than Sviatoslav Richter or Toscanini, and sometimes even the knowledge that a concert was being recorded would inhibit her creative juices. She always gave of herself in an uninhibited fashion when she didn't know microphones would be present, thus Dévény was very careful to hide this fact from her when these concerts were given. (Dévény, who was not personally acquainted with Fischer until her last years, also collected programs, reviews of Fischer's playing, and any writings about her, some of them copied by hand if necessary.)
I must point out, however, that although these recordings are indeed "stereo," they were recorded by Dévény with a portable ITT tape recorder. These recordings have been very well cleaned up, re-equalized, and made listenable by engineer János Györi, but one needs to take this factor into account when approaching these performances. The artistry contained on them is first-rate, at times astounding, but the sound quality will not tickle your fancy if you are an HD/SACD enthusiast.
That being said, what Fischer does with much of this music, particularly the Schubert Impromptus (in the last of which her fingers seem to fly over the keys almost of their own volition) and the Chopin material, is absolutely stunning. She uses her full imagination to shape and color phrases in her own fashion, and one can hear the musical brinksmanship she brought to bear in her unique set of Beethoven's piano sonatas (which, the liner notes tell us, she did give permission to release posthumously). Fischer was a master of rhetorical phrasing, a mode of expression that was part and parcel of the Romantic school of pianism that had pretty much died out by the time these recitals were given-except in the hands of musicians left over from that era, like Cherkassky, Rubinstein, and Fischer herself. In a certain sense this style had to die out because it was too difficult to pursue unless the artist had the highest sense of integrity and artistic sensibilities. Like the "bel canto" school of singing, in which numerous rubato effects, rallentandos, and an assortment of decorative fiddlybits were inserted into the music at will (and, sometimes, apparently, at random), it was simply too difficult to allow artists to pursue this style without risk of overdoing it. Thus the artistic clock of our time allowed the sands in the hourglass to run out on Shura Cherkassky and Annie Fischer, preserving their performances as best they could until they were no more, but not encouraging new artists to play the same way. Occasionally we still get the odd eccentric who follows his or her own muse stylistically, but by and large these recordings are a window on a vanished musical world.
The Chopin Ballade is notable since it comes from her last-ever public concert, in Szolnok, Hungary, on October 24, 1994. All that was programmed was the Mozart Piano Concerto in D Minor, and according to the booklet she stated beforehand that she would not play any encores. Yet the public reception to her performance of the Mozart was so enthusiastic and vociferous that Fischer "resignedly" went back to the piano and began playing encores … loads of them, Schubert, Chopin, and Liszt, eventually far exceeding the time she had spent playing the Mozart Concerto. Ironically, this late performance has thinner, tinnier sound than the 1977 recording; a bit of treble reduction and both mid-range and bass boost works wonders on it. But what a performance! It has a peculiar energy all its own, as if Fischer knew that this was going to be the last time she would appear in public and wanted to give her audience everything she had left. About three quarters of the way through it, Fischer suddenly hits upon a dark mood, using the sustain pedal to run the notes together, from which she only emerges when she returns to the principal melody.
The concert of February 7, 1978, from which we get the Schumann Fantasie and Chopin Sonata, is also somewhat tinnily recorded, so get your audio editor ready for these tracks, too. Fischer was in a particularly feisty mood on this occasion, making these performances smolder with intensity (despite a couple of finger slips in the second movement of the Schumann work). This feeling of nervous impulsivity (for lack of a better term) also informs her interpretation of the Chopin Sonata, bringing the Polish composer's music more in line with her concept of, say, Beethoven or Liszt (who was also a friend of Chopin's). In our modern era of trying to perform works the way we imagine the composer did, or at least as was done in the composer's lifetime, an out-of-center interpretation like Fischer's may seem strange if not a willful distortion of the composer's "intent"; but who knows what the composer really "intended" in this work, or whether or not he played it the same way each time? Perhaps Chopin himself once played, for instance, the Scherzo of this sonata with the same kind of feverish intensity that Fischer brings to bear on it, transforming it into a miniature Mephisto Waltz in the outer sections with a surprisingly tender nocturne-like mood in the middle, or maybe not. The important thing is, the score can bear this kind of interpretation, and I've not heard any other pianist attempt this. She also slightly accelerates the tempo during the major-key, plaintive melody in the midst of the Funeral March while playing the march itself rather slower.
Her performance here of the well known Kinderszenen is more playful, to my ears, as well as more structurally "bound" as a cycle than many other performances, even those of Clara Haskil, although "Träumerai" receives an especially relaxed and wistful reading. But this fine performance is eclipsed by her smoldering interpretation of the Schumann Sonata, in which she digs deep into the keys to pull out some of the most remarkable sonorities ever heard from a keyboard (and this despite the less-than-perfect sound). At times she sets up a motor rhythm that allows her to take the music in stride, at other times she pulls back on the tempo and broadens the phrase with telling effect, at still others she digs into the bass notes like a panther prowling underbrush for its prey, but at no time is she predictable, mechanical, or lacking the right feeling for each specific phrase.
For those of us who are already Fischer aficionados, this set is a must despite the less-than-ideal sound and a pretty good but not great Kinderszenen. For those who have not yet discovered Fischer, you might want to start with her BBC Legends CD, which is in better sound and also contains some surprising performances, but sooner or later you'll want this one, too." (Lynn René Bayley)