An embarras de richesses. Well, not wholly. The performance of the Mozart Piano and Wind Quintet by James Levine and the Vienna-Berlin Ensemble starts disconcertingly with a loud breath before the music itself. Whether it's from one player or (as it seems) more, it immediately creates a feeling of over-closeness. So does a good deal of clicking keywork in the quicker main part of the first movement which follows the (here rather portentous) Largo introduction. Elsewhere too, for example at the start of the development, there are odd little rhythmically-placed sounds that could be breath intakes: these are perhaps intended to aid ensemble but they are irritating, to this listener at least. Generally, the background seems intrusive by CD standards. Yet the musical sound itself is crisp and the performance style fluent and agreeable. I seem to be on the verge of damning with faint praise, and this should not be the case: after all, ensemble is good and intonation mostly so, and the playing is intelligent throughout with sensible tempos. But although there is little actually to fault in the Mozart overall there seems to be something lacking. And I keep recalling the composer's remark in a letter to his father (1784) in which he wrote of the premiere of ''a quintet which received the most remarkable applause: I myself consider it to be the best work I have ever composed''—and cannot help feeling that this fluent new account does not penetrate far enough below the surface of the music, so that the Quintet seems a lesser work than it should.
The central Larghetto is a case in point: the melody does not really sing, either with the wind or the pianist, and the tone produced in later horn and bassoon solos is prim and quavery for my taste—indeed, the wind tone tends towards what might generally be called the Eastern European. Also, two thirds of the way through this movement (around the six-minute mark) the exquisite modulations leading to B flat major lack point and poignancy in comparison with the alternative Philips performance here. The finale goes quite well: but that is hardly enough, and my reservations about wind tone as well as the various clicks and breaths remain—there is a veritable forest of rustles starting at the 3'45'' mark.
I have spent so much space on the Mozart that Beethoven must suffer. The Levine/Vienna-Berlin performance is happier here, though I would have liked the pianist to establish a firmer rhythm at the start of the Allegro following the introduction, and indeed it is a trifle unstable and quirky overall. At times too I felt the piano was too backwardly balanced, not least in the Andante cantabile where it must surely sing more effectively. The new performance of the Mozart and Beethoven by Alfred Brendel and a distinguished group of players, including Heinz Holliger, strikes me as having more charm and authority. From the very start of the Mozart we find livelier articulation and firmer placing, together with a very good balance; and the good piano tone in all registers does not detract from that of the wind, who in turn blend rather better than the Vienna-Berlin players. However, once again the background to the actual notes does not have quite that silence we now expect from CD format, and maybe engineers today need to change those accepted close-miking practices that allow us to hear so much more than we would in concert, or perhaps want to: here it's woodwind keywork that is audible, though not uncomfortably so.
The music itself is very enjoyable, and if the Larghetto seems a trace slow (it is longer than all the alternative versions here, I noticed after listening), it is still sensitive, while the finale—by contrast quicker than all rivals—sparkles delightfully. The Grave beginning of the Beethoven as offered by Brendel and his colleagues makes the DG performance of the same music sound clumsy: there is insight as well is predictable skill in the performance of this later work in the same key, where we feel both Mozart's influence and the vivid emergent personality of the younger man. In particular we are more conscious here (say in the first movement) of Beethovenian humour. The Andante cantabile is poised and winning, and the rondo finale also captivates with its buoyant good spirits.
But what a strong field this is! Robert Layton and Geoffrey Horn did not see eye to eye as to the merits of the Decca coupling of these same two works by Radu Lupu and his colleagues. I need not take issue with either writer. True, the CBS account with Perahia is closely balanced; but the Lupu (Decca) is also finely played, though I find the piano muted in treble and there are a few clicks and murmurs.
On balance the unforcedly sunlit Perahia/ECO players are the safest recommendation in a strong field, better even than the fine Brendel account. The Nash Ensemble (CRD) too are fresh and skilful, but in this company would not be my first choice in terms of flair and subtlety.'