A rhythmically and tonally firm start to the B flat major Concerto from Claudio Abbado and the LSO initially seems a plus here; but I can't help thinking that the sound is too big and robust for the music itself. The same applies throughout this issue, so that the final two chords of the C minor Concerto could be from a Brahms symphony. Mozart can take this treatment, up to a point at least, but today we have heard too many performances that seem authentically closer to the sound he may himself have heard to feel altogether easy. A similar query raises itself at Serkin's first entry: the piano tone is to my ears too steely and late nineteenth century to convince. Beyond that, the soloist's delivery is frankly heavy-handed. There are odd murmurs from him too. The beautiful G minor variations of the Andante un poco sostenuto are introduced too portentously by the orchestra, and the soloist's entry merely increases the unstylish heaviness. Surely this movement is far too deliberate also in pace: 11'43'' as against (say) Brendel's 9'32'' in his complete set (Philips 412 856-1PH13; ( 412 856-2PH10, 4/86). The finale is better, but all in all, this is a disappointing account of this concerto in view of the strong existing competition from other pianists, including Perahia (CBS). The C minor Concerto is somewhat more successful, but again I find the dramatic opening Allegro too deliberate to make its full impact, while various rhythmic and tonal quirks from the soloist also displease, not least in his own cadenzas.
This issue can be recommended only to connoisseurs of this important artist who feel that they must have everything he has given us. In this C minor Concerto, among several distinguished alternatives, I prefer the poised and satisfying Perahia on CBS or the more introspective Christian Zacharias with Gunter Wand on EMI.'