Born in 1940, Christoph Eschenbach established himself during the 1960s and made these recordings not long after: they show him as an accomplished Mozartian and deserved to be made available again. But the accompanying booklet contains two largely useless essays translated from German. The first of these, called ''Who was Mozart?'', wastes space in statements such as ''Genius is egocentric and possessed by one single subject: itself'' and ''Mozart comprehended all human types intuitively and as a matter of course'', while the other opines, in the language of Pseud's Corner, that Eschenbach ''approaches Mozart's sonatas as the products of an artistically structured reality in which every note conveys its own specific message, every note performs a symbolic function... he proceeds unschematically, keen-eared and ahistorical''. In the process of enjoying their literary ego-trips, neither writer provides information about the form, style and dates of the sonatas, although room is found for mention of two of the string quintets and Die Zauberflote.
This having been said, Eschenbach's playing of the sonatas here is characterized by a pleasingly straightforward musicianship. I have always held a better view of them than those scholars who, placing them beside Beethoven's and Haydn's contributions to the genre, or for that matter Mozart's piano concertos, regard them as unimportant to an understanding of his music. For all their occasional easy galanterie, they deserve better than that, as pianists know, and many good recordings exist: the most obviously recommendable is that of Mitsuko Uchida, her account of the sonatas on five mid-price discs having formed the major part of a Mozart piano music set that won a Gramophone Award in 1989.
Still, Eschenbach offers good value. I like his firm yet flexible way with quick outer movements, and his delicate but purposeful handling of slow ones; here and there (as in the outer movements of K330) his phrasing is a little clipped and Prussian-sounding, but not so often as to be a problem, and his nimble yet sensitive fingerwork is always pleasing—try the finales of K279 and K283 for early examples—while minuets dance in the right stately way. I also like his gracefully songful accounts of movements where some other pianists find less charm, such as the finale of K309 and the first movement of K332. The C minor Fantasia/Sonata is strongly done, but the powerful A minor Sonata needs more punch and so does the ''Turkish Rondo'' in K331. The recordings, though elderly, have come up remarkably well in this digital remastering and need no apology, with crisp yet warm piano tone.'