I reviewed Daniel Barenboim's account of the complete Mozart piano concertos with the English Chamber Orchestra (EMI) in June last year. These were performances from the late 1960s and early 1970s and, fine though they were, it is good that he has now given us new interpretations of the last eight, recorded in Berlin between November 1986 and January 1989.
Where previously we had 26 concertos on ten mid-price discs (not 27, because No. 7 in F major is for three pianos and orchestra), here we have just eight on four full-price CDs. But at least that allows us to hear them in the right order (which wasn't possible with the EMI set where, for example, the last concerto came on the penultimate disc); this means that on the present issue we plunge straight into the stormy and stressful waters of the D minor Concerto. We notice that Barenboim is gentler with the first movement than he used to be, less Beethovenian in approach, and although he still uses the Edwin Fischer version of Beethoven's cadenza (a longish one) he is more poised, reflective and revealing. I still have doubts about his Romance, though; where before this second movement was heavyweight, now it sounds prettified, with some arch staccato from his left hand. And the shape of melodies is a touch exaggerated—arguably, Barenboim possesses every gift save that of simplicity, and if there is an Achilles' heel to this fine Mozartian this is it. Still on the subject of this movement, I find the agitated G minor middle section too fast for the rest, but Barenboim (who is a minute faster in this movement than on his older set) is not the only pianist today to whizz through it with more pace than passion. However, that latter quality is splendidly realized in the rondo finale, which includes the pianist's own darkly imaginative cadenza, so I am tempted to forgive him.
But this is not intended to be a strictly comparative review, and I will gladly say without further ado that this new Teldec/Warner Classics issue is a distinguished one. Although a smaller orchestra is generally preferable in this music, the Berlin Philharmonic is splendidly with the pianist and at no time does it fail to satisfy, although I still feel that such passages as the firm start of Concerto No. 22, the first tutti in the finale of No. 23 and the beginning of No. 25 are too close to a Beethovenian sound-world. The unison strings beginning of the C major Concerto, K467 is actually very convincing as played here, weighty yet not ponderous and realizing accurately the maestoso marking. As a director, Barenboim is on target interpretatively, though once again in this first movement he does show his tendency as a pianist to prettify tonally in the second subject, beginning at 4'07'', and sometimes elsewhere, for example at 5'12'', where the rhythm also is a bit twee. The famous Andante of this concerto is taken rather slowly, but has the radiant string sound you expect from the Berlin orchestra, and Barenboim's exquisite delivery of its melody stays the right side of schmaltz; ditto his playing in the solo passage at 1'38'' in the slow movement of K482 (where, however, there are some slight, unidentifiable background noises, such as also occur at the start of the Larghetto of K491).
The first movement of the A major Concerto is leisurely for Allegro and a little slower than in the EMI version of 1967 but beautifully shaped, and its slow movement (Mozart's only movement in F sharp minor, incidentally) is as poignant as anyone could wish. Similarly, the 'storm and stress' of the C minor Concerto, K491, is vividly conveyed; and so is the genial dignity of No. 26, the Coronation. Concerto No. 27 in B flat major, a masterpiece if ever there was one, is fine too.
Indeed, Barenboim's playing is, in the best sense, all of a kind. His artistic virtues are selfevident, among them being his inability to produce an ugly sound, a thoughtless phrase or a graceless texture. Add to this his sense of momentum at his chosen tempo and his rapport with the orchestra, and the results are very pleasing. As so often with him, finales are especially successful, played with vigour yet a buoyancy and sparkle along with it: that of K467 is a good example and K482 and K595 offer others, but all are enjoyable. His own cadenzas, of which there are six in all, are stylish, too. The recording, made in the Siemensvilla, Berlin, is excellent, with a faithful and beautiful piano sound and a natural balance. This new issue is a must for connoisseurs of this artist's work, and recommendable to anyone.'