... Predictably, Argerich combines both fantasy and passion in a reading of quite exceptional immediacy. What sometimes worried me was an over-impressionability of temperament finding outlet in little impulsive surges and other idiosyncracies of timing that after repeated hearings might begin to obtrude. Certainly her response to the a tempo markings (after ritardandos) in the development section is too extreme to sound poised. The central 'march' movement, though never lacking strength and stability in its proud main theme, is lightened by some unusually sprightly episodes, for which she even allows herself a quicker tempo.
The finale, wonderfully pellucid in texture, is marginally faster than we often hear it, with a very marked response to the eager expectancy of the second (etwas bewegter) theme, and a characteristically Argerichian burst of flame in the coda's crescendo. In sound-quality the disc first struck me as just a little cold, but my ear very quickly tuned in. All in all a most welcome reminder of this endearingly volatile artist in youth. Yet I still hope that the now fully mature Argerich can be persuaded to re-record the work, for me the piano's greatest love-poem ever written, in the not too distant future. Until then, I'm bound to say that Pollini (DG), Perahia (CBS) and Brendel (Philips) still head my shortlist, just as Rubinstein (RCA) and Brendel still do in the Op. 12 Fantasiestucke. Argerich plays these eight miniatures with for the most part a light-fingered (except of course, in the more turbulent waters of ''Aufschwung'' and ''In der Nacht'') fluency and fantasy which though wholly individual still left me wishing she had allowed herself just a little more time to cherish detail, time for a little more romantic sentiment