''The late Charles Rosen’s renown as a writer, scholar, musical thinker, and teacher tends to overshadow his reputation as a pianist. However, at his best Rosen was a probing virtuoso who embraced a wide, eclectic, and seemingly contradictory range of repertoire. All the more reason to celebrate Sony/BMG’s original jacket boxed set devoted to Rosen’s complete Columbia and Epic recordings, many of which have not been available on CD. 
Although he studied as a youth with the legendary Liszt pupil Moriz Rosenthal, Rosen’s pianism is anything but “old school”. Like his fellow American colleagues Leon Fleisher, Gary Graffman, and Jacob Lateiner, Rosen was a literalist who favored structure over sensuality, line over mass, clear textures, and a generally lean–even flinty–sonority, although tonal allure and colorful nuance sneak out from time to time. These qualities typify Rosen’s 1968-’70 late Beethoven sonatas, which stand out for their contrapuntal awareness and overall rigor, despite certain quirks, such as the slow and static tempos for Op. 90’s second movement and Op. 101 and Op. 109’s opening movements.
Though not as well recorded, a 1964 Op. 106 and Op. 110 coupling proves more convincing when compared alongside the later versions. The “Hammerklavier” first movement unfolds at a more headlong and urgent pace, albeit with the same controversially elongated fermata at measure 268, while the Scherzo is edgier and harder hitting. Here Rosen maintains the fourth-movement Fugue’s initial tempo; his Columbia remake slightly slows down as it progresses. While the later Op. 110’s tempo relationships are carefully organized, I prefer the earlier Fugue’s greater animation and flexibility, especially in the ecstatic final pages.
Bach’s two Ricercares from The Musical Offering are new to CD, reunited here alongside their original Art of Fugue and Goldberg Variations LP couplings. Budding Bach pianists can learn a thing or two from the intelligence and deep musicality governing Rosen’s decisions with regard to dynamic scaling, voice leading, and tempo.
Those who prefer their Chopin poetic and big-hearted probably will not respond to Rosen’s dry-eyed literalism and small-scaled dynamism. That said, arresting details catch you off-guard and confirm what’s in the scores, as opposed to the dictates of “tradition”. Rosen clarifies the Fourth Ballade coda’s polyphonic maze as few others have, and at an insanely fast, unyielding pace to boot. Rosen also takes the C-sharp minor Scherzo’s opening section in tempo, as written, although he curiously slackens the dotted rhythm in the octaves. While most of the A-flat Polonaise is straightforward and reserved, Rosen taps into his lyrical resources beautifully for the G major episode right before the main theme’s final appearance. The A-flat Mazurka Op. 50 No. 2 is expansive and songful, in contrast to the quick, poker-faced Op. 50 No. 3 C-sharp minor that follows.
A 1965 recital devoted to then-unfashionable Godowsky, Rachmaninov, Tausig, and Rosenthal transcriptions impresses more for proficiency than charm, but Liszt’s Don Juan Fantasy and Tenth Hungarian Rhapsody showcase Rosen’s dazzling technique and lightning reflexes at full capacity. So does a late-1960s Haydn recital that came out on Columbia’s British CBS affiliate label, licensed to Vanguard for a 1969 LP release. In the Chopin F minor and Liszt E-flat major concertos Rosen triumphantly melds his no-nonsense objective style with discreetly declamatory gestures. The Liszt’s final movement gains stature by virtue of its slower than usual tempo and chamber-like soloist/orchestra interplay.
Conversely, Rosen seems a bit studio-bound throughout Schumann’s Carnaval and Davidsbundlertänze; his early 1980s remakes issued by Nonesuch on LP dare to a higher degree, and are better recorded. Nor are his Schubert A major D. 959 Sonata and Mozart A minor Rondo particularly special when considering numerous other versions past and present, as well as the broader, far more intense Schubert performance I heard Rosen give at the Frick Collection in the late 1970s, preserved in a broadcast that ought to become accessible.
Had they remained in print, Rosen’s splendidly played Debussy Etudes would have been an unambiguous reference version. He seems more emotionally attuned to Debussy’s Images Book II than to Book I or L’Isle Joyeuse, but his ultra-sharp projection, brisk tempos, and top-of-the-keys control in Ravel’s Gaspard de la nuit and Le Tombeau de Couperin proves how you don’t have to be French to be an echt-French pianist! And there’s no arguing about Rosen’s sympathetic mastery and authority in 20th century works by Bartók, Boulez, Carter, Stravinsky, Schoenberg, and Webern. The collection includes the first two recordings of Carter’s extraordinarily inventive Double Concerto for Piano, Harpsichord, and Two Chamber Orchestras. Performance-wise, the 1968 version is far more assured and incisive than the 1961 premiere, but the latter benefits from a more resonant and realistically balanced soundstage.
Booklet content includes full discographical information and an excellent essay by piano expert Jeremy Siepmann. Incidentally, Siepmann claims that “in 1962, when Rosen first recorded the Debussy Etudes, directly inspired by Chopin, he was the first to do so, beating even the great German pianist Walter Gieseking.” Gieseking actually recorded the Etudes in 1954, although Rosen’s 1951 recording for the small EMS label did indeed beat out Gieseking’s. This release is bound to attract serious attention among piano connoisseurs. Hopefully it will inspire other companies to reissue important and long out-of-print Rosen recordings such as his last and best Beethoven Op. 106 and Op. 110 sonatas (MusicMasters), his Schumann Revolutionary Masterpieces (on vinyl from Nonesuch, briefly on CD from Globe), and his incomparable Beethoven Diabelli Variations (Carlton Classics).'' ClassicsToday.com