Arcadi Volodos resurrects the lost art of improvisation and transcription with his debut album consisting entirely of piano transcriptions. This young Russian firebrand had set the music world ablaze with this sensational album, which was greeted with hyperbole by critics. The success of this album can be attributed to two factors: the flashy repertoire and the Horowitz-class virtuoso piano-playing. The titles on the album alone can set the heart racing: A generous portion of the disc is dedicated to pianistic fireworks such as the Tchaikovsky-Feinberg Scherzo (from Tchaikovsky's Pathétique Symphony), Cziffra’s Bumblebee Etude and two Horowitz transcriptions which Volodos had transcribed by ear. Note-wise, the Horowitz pieces (Carmen Variations and the Liszt-Horowitz Hungarian Rhapsody No.2) sound exactly like the original versions by the late Russian. However, Volodos is no mere emulator: He plays these transcriptions with a style that is all his own. The playing is generally less incisive and more rounded, and Horowitz’s sly, demonic wit is replaced by Volodos’ brighter sense of fun and humour.

Other delightful finds in the disc include Volodos’ own arrangement of two Rachmaninoff songs, Melody and Morning. These two hauntingly beautiful transcriptions show Volodos to be a master transcriber. They reveal his familiarity with Rachmaninoff’s musical idiom, and also a great sense of keyboard colour. Comparing the original song, Morning, and the transcription found here, I can only marvel at how he transformed the rather sparse original into such a succulent tone poem. His transcription of Melody, done in a style reminiscent of Godowsky and Rachmaninoff, retained every bittersweet nuance of the original.

Guaranteed to wow, Volodos’ paraphrase of Mozart’s Turkish March from the A major sonata, K.331, amplifies the somewhat innocent March into a bombastic display of virtuosity. With melodies augmented by octaves, clever use of inner voices, and shrill embellishments in the upper registers, the transcription employed pianistic devices which sounded very ‘Horowitzian’.

For some seriously hair-raising piano playing, listen to Cziffra’s Bumblebee Etude and the Tchaikovsky-Feinberg Scherzo. In even the craziest, busiest passages, Volodos had every note covered. With the much abused term ‘superlative technique’ being wantonly used to describe countless budding pianists nowadays, Volodos seems to be among the handful who truly deserves such an accolade.