Ashkenazy's Rachmaninov cycle with Haitink has not, I think it would be fair to say, been generally rated an improvement on his previous accounts. This issue, which completes the series, is a different matter. The recording quality is rich and spacious, with generous ambience and no artificial highlighting of the soloist, but without the remoteness which marred the D minor Concerto (The Rhapsody was recorded in Walthamstow Town Hall.) The orchestral playing can be quite soberly described as glorious; having seemed rather unidiomatic in No. 3, here in the slow movement of No. 1 the Concertgebouw gives us horn and trumpet solos subtly flavoured with Slavonic vibrato, and the brief violin solos (from both orchestras) are wonderful. Ashkenazy himself is on top form.
The Paganini Rhapsody with Previn (also Decca) was always one of Ashkenazy's finest achievements; rumour has it that it was set down in one unedited take, and one can well believe that, such is the momentum of the whole performance. I noted down half a dozen quibbles specifically for purposes of comparison and found that the new issue eliminates all but one (the one remaining quibble is with the voicing of Var. No. 17, where Ashkenazy is hardly alone in disregarding the markings; the improvements are: better definition in Var. No. 6, slightly more Tempo di Minuetto in No. 12, a real piano conclusion, that sort of thing). Putting the playing under the microscope it may be felt that a couple of bars have lost a fraction of definition, but I was too caught up with the sweep of the whole to be the least bit worried about that.
The performance of the First concerto approaches this level of inspiration. The opening cadenza sounds cautious beside Earl Wild (Chandos CD CHAN8521/2, 9/87) and I feel Ashkenazy still saps its strength by softening up its conclusion. But this is an isolated point. At least we no longer have to put up with the woefully out-of-tune instrument on the Previn issue, and the scintillating, dreamy and heroic moods captured there are recaptured here, heightened even, because of the superior orchestral contribution.
These two works are the outstanding ones in Earl Wild's recorded cycle. He storms through some of the grandest passages with a clamorous virtuosity which makes your hair stand on end, and the orchestral playing for Horenstein has a driven quality to match. Lucky the collector who can invest in both interpreters, but it must be said that Wild's performances come harnessed to less remarkable ones of the other concertos (I have cooled somewhat to his account of No. 4), and the combined virtues of soloists, conductor, orchestras and recording on the new Decca are really rather remarkable.'