I put this set on at the end of a day-long listening session, and by the time it had finished, I felt as if a new day had begun. Such is the power of great music-making … and I can promise you that these performances are indeed ‘great’. Granted, the 1971 recording of the Schubert sounds marginally better than the 1974 Brahms, but the visceral excitement generated by the Brahms Quintet has to be heard to be believed. It would be fairly easy to imagine a tidier performance, but not one that is more spontaneous or inspired.
Sir Clifford Curzon’s grand vision registers within a few bars of the opening movement and heats to near-boiling point by the start of the recapitulation (from 9'52''). The emotional temperature rises even higher for the second movement, especially for the candidly confessional middle section (from 2'34''), while the Scherzo’s Trio (from 3'00'') is propelled at pace by Martin Lovett’s cello. And yet the distinction of the performance resides not so much in individual contributions – fine as they are – as in the muscling co-operation of all five players, which reaches unprecedented heights in the finale, where wide vicissitudes of feeling and colour are charted with uncanny musical intuition. No wonder the audience explodes: I doubt that anyone present has heard a finer performance since.
I was delighted that both Quintets include their important first-movement repeats. The Trout’s repeated exposition is even more exciting than its first statement, and there is some gentle (and artfully calculated) tempo acceleration during the development section. True, the strings make a fractionally late entrance at the beginning of the Andante, but the vitality of the Scherzo would be hard to beat, while the Theme and Variations again features some notable playing from Lovett (4'58''), rustic this time, and somewhat reminiscent – in overall style – of Casals. There’s an amusing spot of premature congratulation when applause momentarily breaks in at the end of the Allegro giusto’s exposition (at 3'09'' – again the repeat is played), but it soon withers to silence for a joyous finale. Here the recording rather favours the strings (there’s a lifelike buzz to the double-bass), but better that than have the piano drown everyone else out. Wonderful stuff, all of it – though I fear for my bank balance if there is much more to come from BBC Legends that is half as good.'