Borbely says “Why am I attracted to such ‘insurmountable peaks’ as Bach’s Die Kunst der Fuge? I have always been captivated by researching complex musical structures and the regularities of music as language. Working on such a monumental and searchingly demanding work is challenging for me primarily because it is at this level that I can confront my own limits, my own “finiteness”. It becomes evident here that we, humans, can only aim at Perfection but will never be able to achieve it. This is the reason I never feel that my interpretation is “ready”.

Liszt is the greatest innovator of music history ever. Studying his works and performing them I always experience the boundless freedom with which I can approach them. This, of course, does not and cannot mean that Liszt should be played with all kinds of tasteless ‛exaggerations’. At the same time, it is a requirement for all performers to follow the intentions of the author and still present a new quality to the audience. The ‛vacuum’ between the printed and sounding music is a kind of ‛no-man’s-land’ which intrigues me as a pianist. Why? Because in this field we have no protection, that is, borderline cases and critical situations are constant.

For a pianist, Béla Bartók’s piano concertos are a central reserve of power. These works are worth the almost forty years that were spent wearing down the piano chair. These works are essential building blocks of ‘pianism’.

Bach's flute sonatas are particularly sensitive, penetrating and soul-stirring music. If I had to use a single word to describe the four sonatas on this disc, surprisingly, I would have to use something far from idyllic. But why should Bach be so idyllic? His perfect structures (far beyond the 'idyllic' sound we imagine) remind us of the tragedy of our finitude and imperfection. And perfection never 'anaesthetises'. With Bach, even the simplest-seeming music (or movement) explores the darkest spheres (along with the lightest, of course) that the human psyche can scarcely imagine. Just listen to the soaring, inducible phrases of the slow movement of the Sonata in C Major, over and over again. Like the stems of a plant spreading towards the light, tirelessly bursting forward, upwards, towards the surface, towards the light.

Everything is real. Olivier Messiaen’s piano cycle, Catalogue d'oiseaux (Catalogue of Birds), besides being one of the monumental creations of modern music, is one of the greatest 'cathedrals' among works ever composed for the piano (or any keyboard instrument).

"A few years ago I composed a large-scale piano piece for László Borbély, entitled Schmuÿle & Samuel Goldenberg. The piece refers to the movement of the same title from Mussorgsky's well-known piano suite Pictures at an Exhibition. Mussorgsky depicts two Jewish figures of very different characters, the driving force of his work being the juxtaposition of musical material inspired by them…"

Laszlo Borbely tells us “For a pianist, Béla Bartók’s piano concertos are a central reserve of power. They are works that have been worth their weight in the piano stool for nearly forty years. These works are essential building blocks of ‘pianism’. To speak of Bartók, the composer (and thus this music), is an almost impossible undertaking. But why should I? Far more knowledgeable people than I have done it. What is the difficulty? Perhaps primarily because in his case, ‘great’, or ‘one of the greatest’, ‘greatest ever’,… categories all tend to dissipate.

"Whether it is necessary, or even right, to follow conventions (the beaten track) when recording music, for example, or whether the performer can claim the right to show the listener the world he lives in, the world he knows best, with all its beauty and its countless oddities, even risks?.."