Alfred Cortot was a supreme interpreter of Chopin – he studied with the composer’s pupil Émile Descombes – and fortunately he left us many recordings made over the course of several decades. At times his recordings are surprising to modern ears that are used to clinical perfection, as the pianist would drop the odd note here and there. In the age of 78rpm discs, precision editing was not possible, so each 4-to-5-minute disc was cut ‘live’ – meaning that if mistakes were made, each record would need to be cut again or the mistakes would be included in the performance. But at the time that Cortot made his legendary recordings, commercial discs were not considered permanent statements and there was no sense that they would be listened to decades later – rather, they were provisional accounts, certainly not a replacement for a concert experience. As such, note-perfect playing was not the goal but musical insight was, and Cortot delivered this in spades.

Among his most significant contributions to recorded music are his stupendous accounts of Chopin’s Etudes, his expansive, creative interpretations taking these works well beyond the realm of technical studies to reveal their rich musical content. Prior to recording complete sets of these works, Cortot put down a glorious March 21, 1925 account of the Etude in A-Flat Major Op.25 No.1, the ‘Aeolian Harp’ Etude. With the newly implemented ‘electrical recording’ technology (which amplified the instrument with an electric microphone as opposed to the metal horns that had been used previously), we can appreciate Cortot’s beautiful singing sonority and magnificent pedal effects with greater fidelity than his earlier recordings in this desert-island reading of this work:

In 1933, Cortot recorded a massive volume of Chopin works: over the course of the five days from July 4 to 8, the great pianist recorded the 24 Preludes, 4 Ballades, 12 Etudes Op.10, Second and Third Sonatas, 4 Impromptus, 6th Polonaise, Fantaisie, Barcarolle, and Tarantelle – a staggering amount of music to commit to disc in the age of 78rpm records. It is all the more miraculous that, with this timetable and the antiseptic nature of a recording studio, Cortot was able to deliver such musically inspiring performances that continue to be held as benchmark readings over eight decades later, and it is little wonder that there are occasional dropped notes! But what glorious readings he left us, with a magnificent account of Chopin’s Etudes Op.10 that is still critically acclaimed. This was not the first reading of the Etudes on record: Wilhelm Backhaus recorded his glorious cycle in 1928 and the vastly underrated Robert Lortat left an incredible set of both books in 1931. Cortot’s recordings, however, have become more widely known than these others.

Cortot did not record the works in chronological order so as to maximize the playing time on each 4-to-5-minute disc. LP and CD transfers of these performances have tended to issue the recordings in the usual chronological order, and I thought it might be interesting to listen to these performances in the order in which Cortot played them on 78s and in which listeners at the time heard on their records – so the upload below features the works as cut and presented on discs in the 1930s. In same cases, Cortot plays three etudes in a row, with only a second or two’s pause (and, remember, no editing was possible). While the photograph of Cortotin the upload, which was taken at around this period, shows him playing a Pleyel piano, it is documented that Steinway No.141 was used at these Abbey Road Studio No.3 sessions.

These accounts are overflowing with Cortot’s brilliant musicality, with soaring phrasing, sumptuous tonal colours, delicate nuancing, and his truly unique rubato – truly mesmerizing playing!

The following year, Cortot returned to Abbey Road to set down another series of works, including the Etudes Op.25, which we can hear here in the original order as recorded and pressed on 78rpm discs:

In both 1942 and 1943, the pianist not only re-recorded the Etudes but also the Preludes and Waltzes; less known is the fact that he recorded all of the Polonaises and Scherzi, which he did not record at any other time and pressings of which have not been found (one certainly hopes that copies will be located). Recorded at the Studio Albert in Paris on November 2 and 4, 1942, this later cycle of Etudes was released on 78rpm discs at the time and then on a French HMV LP in the 1950s, but were rarely available outside of France or anywhere after that time. They first came to wider attention when they were included in a 1990s 6-CD set produced by EMI France featuring a great many of Cortot’s Chopin recordings.

At the time of that CD release, critics found them less interesting than the pianist’s more known cycle from the previous decade – and certainly, the poor transfers and quick fade-outs after each short work didn’t do much to warm the listener to these readings. However, upon closer examination, one can appreciate that Cortot is in fact in remarkably fine form in these accounts, in some cases playing with more precision and just as much fire as in his performances from almost ten years earlier. Op.10 No.1, for example, is taken at the same tempo and at the very least has different dropped notes (a refreshing change!) but in fact even fewer than the equally dashing earlier performance. Instantly recognizable are the élan, elegance, refinement, and nobility of Cortot’s playing: fluid phrasing, a singing tone at all dynamic shadings (and even in rapid works), creative voicing, and the pianist’s inimitable rubato are all on full display.

Here are both books of Etudes from those 1942 sessions – recorded in only two days! – in separate uploads for Op.10 and Op.25:

Cortot’s complete issued 1942-43 recordings of Chopin – the Etudes, Preludes, and Waltzes – have been newly remastered and issued in February 2022 by Andrew Rose at Pristine Classical, and they are sounding better than ever: click here for the release details.

At the time he made these discs of the 24 Etudes, Cortot did not record the Trois Nouvelles Etudes, but he did so twice later on, in 1947 and 1949. Here is the first of those accounts, in which we can hear with wonderful fidelity his rich singing sonority and magical pedal effects:

Later in life, Cortot’s control at the keyboard waned more significantly, although his tone and phrasing were still marvellous. While he made discs of works that he should not have given his technical decline, some poetic ones were beautifully played, as evidenced in this 1952 reading of the Etude Op.10 No.3

In 1960, Cortot recorded a lecture about the Etudes for Swiss Radio. The pianist’s languaging and verbal delivery are as evocative and elegant as his playing, not easy to fully grasp outside of the French language and therefore challenging to translate (a YouTube commenter has made an attempt in one of the comments in the link below). Listening to the pianist speak is sometimes as marvellous as listening to his playing …

Cortot’s pianism is not appreciated by all, though he continues to inspire music lovers and professional pianists today. Our current ‘Age of Anonymity’ is at odds with the highly individual performances that Cortot put on disc, with his immediately recognizable singing sonority and very personal approach to phrasing and timing, but the tide is changing: the brilliant young pianist Andrew Tyson spoke to the influence of Cortot on his playing, and a few years ago at the Pianofest at the Hamptons, young students were crowded around Jerome Lowenthal asking questions about his time studying with the venerable French master. However one feels about Cortot’s playing, his recorded legacy is a magnificent testament to a truly great musical mind and an astounding champion of the piano, one that will continue to be with us for many more decades to come.