In an interview last August (page 214), Jean Louis Steuerman insisted that he needed to be his own record producer: ''I really couldn't trust anyone else's opinion''. Listening to his second disc, I am left wondering whether this attitude wasn't misguided: a knowledgeable, experienced but sympathetic producer might have been able to prevent some of the flaws that make this a disappointment after his promising gramophone debut. He could, for example, gently have drawn attention to the instabilities of pace that mar the first movement of the Italian Concerto, and particularly to the shaving of the vital crotchet rest in the fourth bar; he could have remonstrated that the prestissimo race through its finale (brilliantly pointed as it is, pianistically) is quite un-Bachian; he could have deplored the wooden, exercise-like treatment of the first of the Duets. This cool impersonality of Steuerman's—which in the fourth Duet might be differently construed as quietly introspective—makes for a decidedly curious interpretation of the Italian Concerto's slow movement: muted, inflexible and with practically no tonal inflections. Is this carrying reticence too far?
The B minor Partita is far more rewarding, though again a scholarly producer might have discussed with the artist such matters as the correct interpretation of mordents, or the adoption of more varied phrasing instead of so generally unremitting a pianistic legato. He could politely have asked Steuerman whether he didn't think the Sarabande just a shade too slow to cohere, and would certainly have prevailed on him, after every other repeat had been played, not to leave the sparkling Echo finale unrepeated. But he would have applauded the dancing springiness of the vivace section of the Ouverture nwhose concerto structure is admirably brought out) and the brightness of the Bourrees; and he would have been intrigued by the slowish, thoughtful interpretation of the Courante. He would, indeed, have admired much of the playing; but if Steuerman were determined to be self-sufficient, perhaps he could have been persuaded to settle for the alter ego observer-behind-one's-shoulder (a la J. W. Dunne) who is a necessity for every performing artist?'