MUSIC REVIEW : Annie Fischer Returns to Ambassador Auditorium

L egendary is an ambiguous description as applied to performers. Does it mean hoary with accumulated legend or does it simply mean old ?

Annie Fischer, for example, the Hungarian pianist who made her third recital appearance at Ambassador Auditorium Wednesday night has been referred to as the legendary Annie Fischer, though she is not that old, and, except for time out during the war years, she has been a steady performer on the international music circuit since she won the first Liszt piano competition in 1933.

Be that as it may, Fischer can on occasion be an imposing pianist. Her basic style is a mixture of energetic forthrightness and non-sentimental poetry. She is overall an honest performer.

One of her virtues is that she conceives and presents her music as a whole; it is never sacrificed to an exploration of detail, yet the details are still clearly present.

Her natural tone production is big and sturdy and at times it can become noisy. But she also can control a finely sustained singing tone.

She was least successful in the opening Beethoven sonata, the one in D, Opus 10 No. 3. She seemed undecided whether it should be framed in classic crispness or whether it should be boldly dramatic.

Schubert’s posthumous Sonata in B-flat assembled all her strengths and drew upon an impressive life of inner feeling.

Schumann’s Sonata in F-sharp minor, Opus 11, now and then mired down in the threshing and commotion that Schumann so dearly loved, but the pianist also appreciated the lyrical uplift of the Aria.