Trevor Pinnock, entering the catalogue as a Mozartian, immediately had me in mind of his highly enjoyable Archiv Produktion issues of Haydn symphonies from the ''Sturm und Drang'' period (1/88, 2, 7 and 9/90). With him, the tiny No. 26—which comes first on his disc—is also turned into a ''Sturm und Drang'' symphony, with sharp attack and big contrasts. Though this is a smallish group of period instruments (5.5.3.3.1, with bassoon and harpsichord continuo) the vividly immediate recording has you registering the often abrasive toughness that must have hit early listeners. As usual in period performance, textures are beautifully clean, with the natural horns in particular braying out characterfully, not least at the end of the finale in Symphony No. 29.
Yet far more than such a pioneer as Christopher Hogwood in his L'Oiseau-Lyre series, Pinnock also manages to convey the genial side of Mozart, both in the rhythmic bounce which has long characterized the work of The English Concert and in his choice of speeds. Intentionally, I imagine, these are period performances for the general listener, rather than for specialists in that area. As in his Bach, Pinnock is not afraid to choose relaxed speeds in slow movements, and in various comparisons of the little G minor Symphony, No. 25, I was surprised to find Pinnock among the slowest, not just in his affectionate account of the slow movement, but in the other three movements too. That degree of relaxation does not diminish at all the impact of each performance, when, as I say, the sound is so immediate and the rhythmic lift so consistently infectious.
In that interpretative stance Pinnock comes relatively close to Gardiner in his Philips series. The only symphony in which so far they overlap is No. 29, and there I would opt for Pinnock, if only because I prefer his choice of speeds. His more relaxed view of the slow movement brings out its lyricism more persuasively, and the natural horns are even brighter in his bouncier, more ebullient account of the finale. Gardiner's ensemble is rather larger (6.6.4.4.2) and he uses a fortepiano continuo. This first issue of Pinnock's can be warmly recommended for coupling the two finest (and most popular) of the teenage works, Symphonies Nos. 25 and 29, with an electrifying account of the tiny No. 26. Unlike Tate and Hogwood, but like most others he does not observe the second half repeats in the first movements of Nos. 25 and 29, nor for that matter in the slow movements. That, on the whole, brings the best balance of length between the movements, though purists might well disagree.'