These are larger-scaled readings than is usual in performances directed from the keyboard; RG appropriately and appreciatively called them ''symphonic'' when they first appeared on LP. Without relinquishing classical poise they have strength and expressiveness enough to avoid any risk that the finale of K451, for example, will seem (as it can in some hands) slighter than what precedes it. Fundamental earnestness, even a hint of severity, is perceived beneath the exuberant surface. The Andante, though, I found slightly disconcerting: at one moment it seems rather fast for the florid ornament to unfold unhurriedly, at the next the unobtrusive firm tread appears almost deliberate; it is, though, all part of a considered approach to the concerto as a whole, and a weightier one than is nowadays customary. Kochel 450 is also tautly controlled, tautly enough for Ashkenazy's occasional rubato and his at times forceful left hand not to disturb its equilibrium. I marginally preferred this to Brendel's account on Philips, which is lighter-hearted and more elegant, but at times has a somewhat lapidary, staccato phrasing that can seem mannered. I would ideally prefer to either of these a performance carrying, so to speak, less weight, but both are distinguished interpretations, and Ashkenazy's has an urgency that compels the attention and holds the concentration.
The perspective of the recording must be very like what Ashkenazy himself heard while playing. The violins (quite a body of them, by the sound of it) have in their upper register that attacking edge, that massive brilliance that is experienced when sitting very close to an orchestra. If you prefer, as I do, sitting in row H or thereabouts, you may find it excessively immediate, but the rest of the orchestra is never swamped; the woodwind, indeed, are very close, and characterful with it. A pity that the horns are rather backward near the end of K450; it spoils one of Mozart's jokes.MEO