The legendary Russian pianist Emil Gilels (1916-1985) began his career in the bold, romantic tradition, and his early inscriptions, like that of the Liszt 9th Hungarian Rhapsody, were played for bravura in large strokes. But Gilels developed artistically, and his later more introspective style, as here represented on this fine BBC collection from two venues: Memorial Hall, Farrington Street, London (22 April 1957) and the Concert Hall, BBC Broadcasting House, London (27 February 1959), adds the German and Viennese classics to a rich palette of Schumann, Tchaikovsky and compatriot Prokofiev. Gilels sported a small arsenal of Scarlatti sonatas, and we hear three of the same group he offered in his Locarno concert 25 September 1984 (on Ermitage ERM 163): the D Minor, K. 141; the lovely B Minor, K. 27; and the A Major, K. 533. The large C# minor Sonata, K. 247 traverses several moods in the course of some deft figurations. As always, the Gilels tone is smoothly silken, the articulation clean, and the shifts of registration seamless. The B Minor Sonata was a Gilels staple, and he plays it with a broad rubato totally absent in Michelangelo’s polar extreme. The rarity is the Bach Aria and Variations, perhaps a counterpart to the Gavotte and Variations by Rameau. Strength and sureness of pulse mark the aria and ten variants, which Gilels offers in a plain, unmannered style. Schumann’s First Sonata remained dear to Gilels’ heart; and after the choppy and galloping metrics of the Un poco Adagio–Allegro vivace, the little Aria sings forth most tenderly. The nervous energy returns with a vengeance for the Scherzo and Finale. Whether “butterflies,” children’s marches, or simply connected contrapuntal fantasy-pieces, the Sonata has the fleeting, kaleidoscopic beauty created by one of the League of David. Both Schumann and Grieg seem to have influenced Tchaikovsky’s Reverie du soir and Album Leaf from Op. 19; the C# Minor Nocturne carries the composer’s own signature of bittersweet nostalgia. The Prokofiev Toccata spits vinegar after Tchaikovsky’s sentimentality, with Gilels almost punishing us with its pungent sarcasm. Connoisseurs, however, will appreciate how the lion’s power is still subdued by the poet. –Gary Lemco