Sensitive phrasing was the very hub of Pablo Casals's art, and these CDs are more revealing than many of how this most communicative of cellists could mould and energize a musical line, reducing his tone to a soulful tenor then thrusting a powerful sforzando for maximum dynamic contrast. The Beethoven sonatas are endlessly rewarding in this respect, but even they must bow to the marginal supremacy of Casals's 1936 account of the Brahms F major Sonata, one of the truly great cello recordings. No one since has projected the work's heroic opening with as much confidence (the repeat is observed, by the way), nor brought greater suppleness or tonal variety to the Adagio affetuoso. Note, too, how both Casals and Horszowski explore the winding musical thickets of the Allegro passionato (Brahms at his most mischievous) and make play with the closing Allegro molto. Even as I write this, I feel prompted to return the CD to the player and listen yet again.
The Beethoven sonatas are equally indelible, the Op. 5 works sounding very much their innovatory selves, and those of Op. 102 more probing and explosive than most (although Casals's tone has a less aggressive 'cut' than on his post-war re-recording with Rudolf Serkin—Sony Classical, 5/94). Both players invest Op. 102 No. 2's searching Adagio con molto sentimento d'affetto with an intriguing sense of the numinous, then dig deep into the succeeding Allegro fugato—a gritty debate on the preceding mystery, and parallel in effect to the last movement of the Hammerklavier.
Casals recorded the Op. 69 Sonata some nine years before Opp. 5 and 102, not with Horszowski, but with the stylish and facilitating Otto Schulhof. It differs from its companions in being more songful than soulful (Casals's handling of the ''Es ist vollbracht!'' passage 4'23'' into the first movement, is incomparably eloquent) and with a bel canto solo line that extends to the charming Menuet makeweight.
Recordings of this unique quality deserve painstaking restoration, and Andrew Walters's transfers are excellent. Surface levels are low, the solo cello sounds clean and immediate, and the piano is more recognizably itself than on some 78s from the 1930s. A Pearl set (which substitutes Beethoven's Bei Mannern Variations with Cortot for the Brahms sonata) is also very good—noisier than EMI's, but marginally fuller in tone. Much the same can be said of a Pearl Brahms sonata transfer (with the 1929 Thibaud/Casals/Cortot Double Concerto). Ultimately, though, this mid-price Brahms/Beethoven combination is artistically so desirable that it must inevitably take pride of place in any self-respecting collection. As chamber music sets go it is as near the pinnacle as any—and is, in my view, likely to remain there for the foreseeable future.'