David Bronstein, One of the Greatest Attackers in Chess History, Part 3
David Bronstein, One of the Greatest Attackers in Chess History, Part 3
Learning the Art of Attack through Bronstein’s Games, Part 3
In this continuation, we turn to Bronstein’s style and his two games with Tal
In the first two parts, we examined how Bronstein attacked an uncastled king (and on that subject alone, one could easily write an entire book!). In this section, however, we shall look at something rather unusual:
Both kings are insecure
What happens when both kings remain in the center with many pieces still on the board? Which king is less safe? And this, I think, will be a true delicacy: we shall revisit two of Bronstein’s encounters with Tal – known as the “Pirate from Riga”, but whom one could just as well call a magician. In other words, a clash between two true sorcerers of the chessboard.
Before turning to the games, let us first say a few words – theoretically – about Bronstein’s view on positional types.
Bronstein’s classification of positions
Readers surely know that there are many ways to classify positions. One of the most fascinating is Bronstein’s (I draw here upon the material from Vainshtein’s book “Improvisation in Chess Experience,” Moscow 1976). Bronstein held that there are three types of positions:
- Technical,
- Logical, and
- Chaotic (later called intuitive).
In technical positions, a specific technique is required to achieve a result. It is all about pure knowledge – one’s understanding of such positions depends on accumulated skill. The broader the knowledge of technical structures, the stronger the player. Into this category (provisionally, of course) one might place Capablanca and Fischer.
In logical positions, logic itself must be applied. These are, for instance, positions with an isolated central pawn, positions with spatial advantage, play concentrated on one wing, the creation of weaknesses, and so on. Players of this type build upon knowledge of technical positions, but good calculation and the ability to transform one type of position into another are equally essential. Botvinnik was the great master of logical play.
Finally, there are the chaotic positions – later referred to as intuitive (to be perfectly frank, I prefer the first term, since it captures the essence more accurately. To speak of intuition here could also mean positional intuition). In such positions, one cannot manage without deep calculation and a refined sense of intuition. Yet even after calculating a sequence of 5–6 moves, the resulting position may remain unclear – still chaotic – for many further moves. To play these well requires not only calculation, but also a remarkable feel for the game and a sense of fantasy. Among the players who excelled in this type, we may certainly include Bronstein, Korchnoi, naturally Tal, and, for example, Polugaevsky.
Vainshtein argued that the main problem for players who thrive in chaotic positions is that their strength tends to wane with age. Yet Korchnoi himself stands as a refutation of this claim. One could say that such players expend more energy and nerves, and it is possible that with advancing years their play becomes less sharp – but this is by no means a rule.
In this article, we shall examine two games between the great masters of intuitive play – Tal and Bronstein – and our first theme is:
Both kings insecure and in the center
Indeed, how real is the danger when both kings linger in the center? A definitive answer is elusive, apart from the truism that such positions are extremely sharp, demanding long and precise calculation, and above all intuition.
We now turn to a game between Tal and Bronstein – meaning, of course, two of the greatest masters of attack.
Bronstein’s friend and second, B. S. Vainshtein, lamented: “Bronstein’s games with Tal are always immensely interesting, but unfortunately, commentators rarely reveal the full depth and content of these struggles to the reader. Their encounters are often described as a series of dazzling tactical blows, while in reality, different aesthetics of battle are at play.” (Improvisation in Chess Experience, p. 145).
In accordance with my own abilities, I shall attempt to analyze two of their games somewhat differently from what is usually found in the sources familiar to me.
David Bronstein and Mikhail Tal playing a simultaneous exhibition against each other on eight boards, Moscow 1982.
Let us now look at the game from their 1966 training match. Both players set out on an original course from the very beginning. Against the Caro–Kann, Tal played 2.d3 – a line he had once employed successfully against Smyslov in 1959 (there can hardly be an experienced player unfamiliar with that game). Bronstein replied with 2…e5, and the position began to resemble a King’s Gambit (!).
Seeking to complicate matters, Bronstein deliberately played the inferior 5…Qh4+. But Tal, ever the seeker of sharp and complex play, answered with 7.d4 – which, as it turns out, was a mistake. I suggest that readers pay close attention to the analysis beginning with 7.Nc3, and enjoy the ensuing fireworks.
Bronstein’s first remarkable move came with 7…Nh6!. Tarrasch’s famous dictum was that a knight on the rim is dim; yet Bronstein – who throughout his career delighted in overturning principles – demonstrated here that this was not the case. The knight on h6 serves a function (for instance, guarding f7) and stands well. Remarkably, Tal’s natural move 8.Bc4 was actually inferior. Bronstein replied in kind with the seemingly natural 8…Be6 – which also turned out to be poor. Especially fascinating is the line that begins with 8…f6!!, and it deserves careful attention.
Tal then played the dubious 8.d5?, quite possibly in order to steer the game into chaos. Thus, we arrive at our first key position:
After 8…cxd5 Black already enjoys a clear advantage, but only now do the real complications arise – the very complications in which both men were supreme masters (masters? Great masters! Perhaps “sorcerers of chaotic positions” would be the truest description).
Special attention should be given to the splendid move 10…f6!, where Black seeks to prove that his knight on the rim is more effective than White’s centralized steed.
Curiously, Bronstein did not play the natural 12…0-0-0!, instead opting for …Rd8. Another natural-looking move – 13…Qf7 – was weak. Tal’s next natural move, 14.Nc3, was also insufficient. After yet another poor choice, 16.f5?, Tal’s position became critical.
On the board stood a position so unusual one might think it the product of two amateurs. White had left his queenside undeveloped, with knights adrift in the center and a prematurely advanced, possibly weak, pawn on f5. And of course, neither side had castled. The next stage of the game is undoubtedly the most fascinating – and the most relevant to our theme.
Black erred with 17…Nxf5 instead of 17…0-0 (as if both players conspired to avoid the logical choices…), and after a series of largely forced moves, the board after 22.Qxb7 showed both kings still in the center. More than that: White threatened either a discovered check or a double check!
But Bronstein – the other magician, the very hero of our story – feared neither Tal’s discovered nor double checks, and boldly played 22…Qxc4!. From here to the end, readers may delight in the breathtaking sequence in which Bronstein “centralized” his king on d5 with the board still crowded with pieces! The finale came with a small yet elegant concluding blow: 28…Be3!.
A truly fantastic game, one that offers genuine aesthetic pleasure to every lover of chessboard fireworks!
On the Style of Bronstein and Tal
The question arises: Is there really a difference between the styles of Bronstein and Tal? Was Bronstein merely “Tal before Tal,” as was sometimes claimed? Let us give the word to Vainstein:
“Much in common can be found in their understanding of chess as a form of struggle, although an entire generation lies between these great representatives of combinational chess. But there is also a fundamental difference – which, speaking in general terms, though not with complete accuracy, can be formulated as follows: Bronstein conducted combinational battles on the basis of a firm strategic idea. In calculating variations, he selected those that were consistent with his central plan. Tal, on the other hand, strove to lead the position into a chaotic state, where no other method of play was possible except deep calculation. His natural talent allowed him to see clearly through the storm and even in the darkness of chaos. That is why he sacrificed pieces and pawns, to break the circle of logic upon which his opponent relied.” (Improvizatsiya v shakhmatnom iskustve, pp. 145–146).
I would add: every imagination is different, and naturally, these two players differed in creativity as well. That is why the games of these two giants are always fascinating.
How Dangerous Is It to Leave the King in the Center?
This is the central theme of our second game. Unlike the previous encounter, this one is quite well known—at least among connoisseurs. Bronstein and Tal met here on the highest stage—the USSR Championship of 1964. One of the main problems: what opening to choose?
Bronstein, even in his formative years, had a special approach to the opening. He “analyzed openings not merely in search of the best move in a given variation, but from a higher perspective: he sought the optimal strategy within the opening.” (Vainstein, ibid., p. 25). In other words, he was a forerunner of the modern approach to openings—though today’s players analyze concrete ideas more deeply and extensively.
Let us now cite Tal’s second, Alexander Koblentz, on this game: “Both partners sought in the opening to create a position suited to their taste. Tal sharpened the play to the maximum, practically forcing the Black king to remain in the center, since neither wing offered it safety. And Bronstein always dreamed of a counterattack when playing with the black pieces.” (Shakhmaty Riga 1965/4, p. 3). As I have already noted in earlier texts, Bronstein was a true expert in the French Defense—both as White and as Black.
Bronstein was the first to deviate from the trodden theoretical paths with the new move 8…Qa5!. Databases today show that this move had been played once before, but it is highly unlikely that the players knew of that game. Both displayed a profound understanding of this type of position. Tal, for example, played 10.h4, which has since become a standard plan in the kingside attack. After 15…Ne7, the position was approximately equal. Tal then embarked on an adventure with 16.Qxg7—objectively an error.
An extremely fertile position for creative play arose. After 18.0-0, White’s king was relatively safe (though not completely, as the g-file was open), while Black’s king was utterly exposed. Wherever he went, there would be no peace! One might think Bronstein was doomed, yet he knew his position was not bad (as all later analysis—including my own—has confirmed) and devised a plan.
He considered the c-file of special importance, along with the squares c4 and f4, and he did everything possible to control them. Tal, naturally, strove to open the position and played 19.d4—a move that was objectively weaker, but practically very strong, since it was nearly impossible for Black to find the precise reply in a game with limited time.
Bronstein responded somewhat inaccurately with 19…Bg4 (in such positions, it is impossible to play every move correctly!). After the surprising 22…Qxe5, we reach a critical position (if indeed the entire game was not critical!).
With his king stuck in the center and weaknesses on the dark squares, it seems Black has little to hope for. Older commentators tended to favor Black (largely because of the result), but the objective evaluation is that the position remained completely unclear. It is likely that both players were satisfied: Tal had every chance for an attack, while Bronstein believed he had excellent counterplay—especially after 23…Rc8. With 24.Rb1, White directed his attack from the queenside, correctly judging that he had no prospects through the center. Tal’s first serious mistake came with 25.Rb5 (to my knowledge, no commentator has yet identified this as an error), and after 26.Rb3, White’s position was theoretically lost—but only in theory. In practice, the battle had only just begun!
Especially fascinating is the position after 32.Qb2. Tal was clearly delighted: he had more time on the clock and exactly the kind of position he loved. At this moment, Bronstein stunned everyone with 32…Ke7—in keeping with the democratic principle that even the king must share responsibility for his fate! Objectively the move was weak, but practically it was fully justified. Even more shocking was the follow-up 33…Kf6. Again, weak in pure analysis, but in practical play, everything was possible. Let us quote Tal: “I must confess that, despite losing, I felt an enormous creative satisfaction. His king maneuver simply enchanted me.” (Tal’s Selected Games, 1962–67, p. 71). Unbelieving his own eyes at Bronstein’s king walk, Tal immediately went astray with 34.Rxe4, after which the game was lost. Yet he could still have equalized with either 34.Be3 (as Bronstein himself suggested) or 34.Rb7.
As was his habit, Tal had no qualms about sacrificing material, and with 29.Nxc3, he gave up a piece to open the position. Objectively, this was a mistake, but under time pressure, Bronstein missed the strong 29…Rxc3, which would have led to a relatively simple win. Instead, we were granted one of the true gems of chess artistry.
A truly extraordinary game! Bronstein demonstrated what Tal once described: “A chess player today must not prove that 2 + 2 = 4, but that 2 + 2 = 5!”
I hope readers enjoyed these creations of the two giants as much as I did while analyzing them. With full justification, we can say that both games were chaotic (intuitive) in nature. That may explain the somewhat higher number of errors, but chess itself rests on the possibility of error, and that should never be taken as a shortcoming. Without mistakes, every game would end in a draw.
To be continued…
