By the time of these 1951 Perpignan Festival recordings Pablo Casals was past his prime as a cellist but had not yet emerged as the persuasive podium presence he’d become in the 1960s. All of this partly accounts for the brusque, string-dominated sonority that characterizes the orchestral work throughout this collection. For all the rounded grace Myra Hess brings to the K. 271 concerto’s elegant solo part, her more lithe, disciplined broadcast version with Edward van Beinum and the Concertgebouw Orchestra reflects a more cogent meeting of minds. Miecyslaw Horszowski and Casals may have bonded as instrumental partners, but in K. 595 the pianist’s limpid fingerwork seems bogged down by his friend’s logy conducting (just the opposite holds true for Horszowski’s bracing 1943 reading under Toscanini, issued by Naxos).
Rudolf Serkin’s angular phrasing and nervous energy in the K. 482 concerto, however, mesh well with Casals’ hard-hitting orchestral framework, and likewise for the young Eugene Istomin’s brash, stylish fluency in K. 449. Despite coarse string tone at loud moments, you readily catch on to Casals’ stylized, painstakingly worked-out dynamic contrasts and shapings of phrase in Eine kleine Nachtmusik. The drab, cramped, and strident sound I remember from the original LPs remains so via Roger Beardsley’s straightforward transfers from quiet vinyl pressings. By contrast Sony Classical’s 1993 remasterings of K. 449 and K. 595 stem from superior tape sources. Maybe these performances haven’t aged gracefully, but they still hold your attention.
