Rehearing these 1982 recordings leaves a mixed impression. Anne-Sophie Mutter (then 19 years old) is too forwardly balanced, diverting attention from the piano, which in these works bears equal importance to the violin. As a result, Alexis Weissenberg’s strong, empathetic, and sensitively contoured contributions often seem relegated to mere accompaniment, even when the piano is supposed to be in the foreground. Mutter’s “singing sword” vibrato, beautiful in and of itself, fatigues in large doses, and I miss the variety in articulation, timbre, and emotional expression that distinguish Brahms Sonata cycles by Josef Suk, Isaac Stern (his earlier stereo versions), Augustin Dumay, and Henryk Szeryng. Moreover, Mutter’s intonation in slow, sustained passages (the G major sonata’s central movement, for instance) sometimes loses focus.
Still, there are arresting moments: the D minor sonata’s Finale delivered at a truly demonic Presto Agitato, and a brisker-than-usual approach to the A major’s opening movement that rightly prevents the music’s lyrical introspection from turning elegiac. Given her recent, magnificent Brahms Concerto, I suspect that Mutter’s mature mastery might yield similar results if and when she chooses to remake these sonatas.
