Hearing the Unseen: How to Tell the Difference Between Pianists’ Interpretations of Liszt’s Sonata in B Minor

Franz Liszt’s Sonata in B Minor (1853) is one of the most enigmatic and monumental works in the piano repertoire.

Its single-movement structure—spanning moments of relentless virtuosity, profound lyricism, and spiritual transcendence—challenges both pianist and listener.

More than just a technical tour de force, the piece is an interpretive battlefield, a mirror reflecting each pianist’s artistic personality.

While the notes remain the same, the experience of listening can be vastly different depending on the performer.

To understand how interpretation shapes the sonata’s impact, we compare four legendary pianists—Vladimir Horowitz, Martha Argerich, Sviatoslav Richter, and Krystian Zimerman—who each take us on a unique emotional journey.

By analysing their tempo choices, use of rubato, dynamic contrasts, phrasing, and sense of structure, we uncover the philosophy behind their artistry.

1. Vladimir Horowitz (1932 Recording): The Demonic Virtuoso

Horowitz’s interpretation of Liszt’s Sonata in B Minor is a psychological thriller, balancing on the edge of chaos.

His reading is marked by extreme contrasts, sudden dynamic shifts, and a sense of impending doom.

Tempo and Rubato:

Horowitz takes liberties with the tempo, bending it to create dramatic tension.

The opening descending motif (0:45–1:20) is played with ominous weight, each note stretched to emphasise the dissonances.

His transition into the Allegro energico (3:10) is electrifying—he accelerates suddenly, injecting an improvisatory fire that makes it feel as though the piece is being composed in real time.

Dynamics:

Horowitz’s range is extreme. His fortissimos are volcanic (the octave eruption at 7:30 is a prime example), while his whisper-like pianissimos (12:15–13:00) create an eerie intimacy.

Critics sometimes accuse him of theatricality, but his approach captures the Romantic spirit of the sonata—intense, volatile, and deeply personal.

Technical Mastery:

Horowitz’s legendary precision allows him to execute the fugato section (15:00) with blistering speed and razor-sharp articulation, never sacrificing clarity.

His ability to maintain this level of control, even at extreme tempos, sets him apart.

Verdict:

Horowitz’s interpretation is a high-wire act—thrilling, volatile, and unapologetically subjective.

His sonata is not just played; it is fought, conquered, and ultimately left smouldering.

2. Martha Argerich (1971 Live Performance): Fire and Instinct

Argerich’s live performance is raw, electric, and fearless.

Her approach captures the sonata’s dual nature: both untamed and poetic, violent and tender.

Rhythmic Drive:

Unlike Horowitz’s elastic phrasing, Argerich maintains a driving pulse.

The Allegro energico (3:05) bursts forward with a relentless energy, and her staccato chords (4:20–5:00) fire off like a series of gunshots.

Her tempo choices suggest an inner urgency, as if the music is on the verge of breaking free from its own constraints.

Lyricism:

Despite her fiery approach, Argerich delivers breathtaking lyricism in the Andante sostenuto (10:30–14:00).

The “Grandioso” theme (17:45) sings under her hands, offering a moment of respite before she plunges back into the storm.

Risk and Imperfection:

As a live performance, Argerich’s sonata embraces spontaneity, occasionally at the cost of clarity.

A missed note at the climax (24:50) is inconsequential compared to the emotional weight of her playing.

This is music that lives and breathes, unfiltered and visceral.

Verdict:

Argerich’s sonata is a force of nature—untamed, visceral, and electrifying.

Her interpretation is a battle cry, an instinctual dive into the sonata’s emotional core.

3. Sviatoslav Richter (1966 Studio Recording): The Philosopher’s Sonata

Richter’s recording is architectural and cerebral. He treats the sonata as a symphonic poem, emphasising structure over theatrics.

Tempo and Balance:

Richter opts for slower, more deliberate tempos, allowing motifs to unfold organically.

The opening theme (0:30–1:15) is played with a solemn, almost meditative weight.

His fugato section (14:20–16:00) is impeccably voiced, with each contrapuntal line standing out in high relief.

Dynamic Control:

His forte passages (8:00–9:30) are powerful but never harsh, while his pianissimos (19:00–20:15) shimmer with an otherworldly stillness.

Unlike Horowitz or Argerich, Richter avoids exaggeration—his expressivity is profound but contained.

Intellectual Rigour:

Richter focuses on the sonata’s cyclical structure, revealing how themes evolve and reappear.

The final bars (29:30–30:00), often played as a whisper, are given a grim finality, as if closing the book on an existential journey.

Verdict:

Richter’s sonata is a masterclass in clarity and depth—a cosmic meditation on life and death. His interpretation is one of intellectual gravity rather than raw emotion.

4. Krystian Zimerman (1991 Recording): Poetic Precision

Zimerman’s interpretation is a balance of technical perfection and poetic introspection. His sonata is polished, deeply considered, and profoundly expressive.

Phrasing and Nuance:

His Andante sostenuto (11:00–14:30) is a lesson in lyrical control. His pedal use is minimal, creating transparent textures (13:20–13:45) that evoke a Debussy-like impressionism.

Dynamic Gradation:

Zimerman excels in subtle shifts of intensity. A prime example is the crescendo from ppp to ff in the recitative-like passage (6:00–7:15), where a whispered confession transforms into an explosion of fury.

Structural Unity:

More than any of the other pianists, Zimerman emphasises the narrative arc of the sonata. The return of the opening motif (28:00–29:00) is inevitable, a haunting echo of past struggles.

Verdict:

Zimerman’s sonata is a polished gem—elegant, introspective, and flawlessly engineered. Every phrase has purpose, every dynamic is carefully weighed.

Comparative Analysis: Technique as Philosophy

Each pianist brings a distinct philosophy to the sonata, shaping its emotional impact in different ways:

Tempo and Freedom:

• Horowitz & Argerich use rubato for drama and energy.
• Richter & Zimerman maintain structure, prioritising logic over impulse.

Grandioso Theme (17:00–18:30):

• Horowitz accelerates, making it feel triumphant.
• Argerich surges ahead with fiery momentum.
• Richter broadens it, emphasising grandeur.
• Zimerman balances grandeur with lyrical restraint.

The Final Whisper:

• Horowitz (30:20): A ghostly, vanishing trill.
• Argerich (30:45): A defiant, abrupt decay.
• Richter (30:10): A solemn, lingering farewell.
• Zimerman (30:30): A delicate, unresolved question.

Conclusion: The Sonata as a Mirror

Liszt’s Sonata in B Minor is a Rorschach test for pianists. Horowitz reveals its demonic passion, Argerich its primal energy, Richter its existential weight, and Zimerman its poetic logic. Each performance reflects not just technical skill but an artist’s worldview.

For listeners, this diversity is a gift—proof that great music is not a monolith, but a prism refracting infinite shades of meaning.

As Alfred Brendel once said, “Liszt’s Sonata is a universe. Every performance is a new exploration.”