Although caught in concert in the BBC studios in 1966 (concerto) and 1963 (sonata), these archives are in mono, a not very good mono in the case of the concerto, lacking both in consistency and important timbral colorations. Above all, this document is intended for admirers of the interpreters, because in truth a plethora of recordings already exists in which the artistic/technical achievement is clearly superior.
Johns Ogdon and Barbirolli have a vision that above all is “enthusiastic” and pugnacious in the Brahms concerto. Barbirolli, as you hear from the insistent moaning in the third movement, swoons for the chance to distend the tempo or underline an effect, and it produces a most disconcerting and peculiar dialog in which the pianist hurries all of his entrances as if to prod the orchestra. And carried away by his own euphoria, Ogden becomes quite easily disjointed in phrasing. This also is the case with the orchestra (particularly the winds) from time to time.
For my own part, I have scant affinity for this sort of “bi-polar” Brahms, which may seduce by virtue of its impulsive spirit but only represents a snapshot of the work–one that becomes tiresome on repetition and brings with it no element of insight. When Sony France was looking to offer in its Casadesus Edition a concert of this concerto with Schuricht, containing the same sort of weaknesses, the series’ artistic advisor wisely declined the proposed publication out of respect for the memory of the artists. Apparently not everyone has the same philosophy!
In Op. 111, on the other hand, Ogdon is striking for his genuinely dense sonority, his concentration, and for a very much more calibrated sense of structure–but also and above all for a subtlety of touch (a very impressive second half of the Arietta) that you don’t hear in the Brahms. With a few scattered slips of the fingers in the opening passage, this isn’t an essential addition to the discography of the work. But nevertheless its publication is at least easy to justify.