There is an agreeable feeling of intimate music-making about these performances, particularly in each work's Andante the stillness with which Schnabel begins that of the Mozart quartet is completely beguiling. He is, as might be expected from so cultured a musician, an admirable chamber-music player; and though the 1935 recording of the Trout makes the piano rather over-bright (while the string tone is very respectable for its age), the discretion of his passagework behind the lovely viola/cello duet in its Andante is the mark of one with a keen appreciation of the work's texture. But the whole team—Belgian quartet members, English double-bass Austrian pianist capture an engaging Viennese light-heartedness in the first movement of the Trout and react sensitively to Schubert's subtleties of harmony and key-shift: the scherzo, if a trifle restrained in speed, has a delicious springiness. Not all the points of dynamic contrast in the scherzo are sufficiently made, however, and in general the recording levels are a little uneven.
The Mozart, somewhat thinner in tone but very well balanced between piano and strings, does not fully convey the first movement's drama, and On ou's intonation is not always as impeccable as it is in the Schubert. One's main regret in the two performances is over the temptation to rush semiquavers which Schnabel never seemed able to resist: he scampers from about bar 30 in the Mozart, and at bar 118 in the Schubert sets Onnou a challenge (which is met with determination and skill). Well, no one's perfect.'