This is a Hammerklavier of no mean distinction—as it needs to be if it is to hold an honourable place in the catalogue beside the likes of Pollini on DG. What it doesn't have, and this I found disconcerting especially in outer movements, is the kind of irresistible surging momentum which distinguishes the greatest interpretations. In com- pensation, it abounds with subtle insights and lucid unfolding of Beethoven's thought processes. Occasionally the nuances are spelt out by premeditated hold-ups, where they need only be acknowledged or hinted at; more often the young Norwegian is bang on target—the dense interweavings of the first movement development section are painstakingly clarified, as is virtually the entire finale, the concealed dialogue of the second movement Trio is savoured to the full (as it so rarely is), and the slow movement has moments of breathtaking vision.
Overall Smebye's Hammerklavier is recommendable for its many moments of special illumination, for its genuine spiritual voyage through the slow movement, and for the exceptional loveliness of the recorded piano sound. A mainstream account such as Pollini's remains an obvious first choice, but with most of the other great readings either tied up in boxed sets (such as Brendel on Philips) or unobtainable (such as Solomon on EMI) the new issue is by no means a superfluous one.
The Bagatelles are generally persuasive without carrying quite the conviction of the sonata. The first feels not perfectly integrated, No. 3 is a little lumpy (but bravo to the pedalling at the end), and No. 5 is marred by some percussive-sounding pedalling in the middle section (from 1'03'')—the only instance of disagreeable sound quality anywhere in the disc.'