Biddulph have already coupled the Beethoven Brahms and Mendelssohn performances on a two-disc set which also contains the dozen or so encore pieces which Kreisler recorded in Berlin during 1926–7 (9/92). On the face of it Pearl's collection is still more attractive, since it includes two more concertos instead of the short pieces—the Bach Double with Zimbalist and the Mozart D major.
It's a slight irony that the 1915 performance of Bach's concerto is given a kind of spurious authenticity, since owing to the exigencies of pre-electric techniques the two soloists are accompanied by just a string quartet. There's no continuo, however, and this first-ever recording of the work has a cut in the slow movement in order to fit it on to one side of the original 78rpm set. The playing of both soloists is wonderfully expressive, and a certain stylistic purity is evident, too.
The Mozart was also recorded acoustically, in 1924, and was soon deleted when electric process arrived the following year—in its original form it is a very rare set. Kreisler's exquisitely elegant, gloriously phrased account of the solo part is well captured by the recording horn: Ronald's accompaniment is a little heavy-handed in the slow movement, but otherwise he gives good support to his inspired soloist. Transfers here and in the Bach are capable, although the Mozart has a high degree of surface noise. Unfortunately technical problems arise during the remaining items.
It's true that the original 78s of the Beethoven are difficult to reproduce well, with their pitch fluctuations and heavy surface noise, but Biddulph's Ward Marston has done wonders—using commercial pressings—in creating a stable, smooth-sounding transfer. Not so Pearl, whose transfer has been made from noisy copies which also produce occasional distortion through being worn. The side joins are frankly amateurish, with disconcerting stops and starts, and there are pitch variations. In these digital days the use of cross-fading is surely a must. Kreisler's matchless artistry shines through all the difficulties, but he should have been better served.
Similar problems also arise in the transfers of the Brahms and Mendelssohn concertos. On the latter I have to report a silence of several seconds between the first and second movements, after which the holding notes emerge as if the bassoonist had suddenly and belatedly woken up to the fact that his services were needed.
The Brahms and Mendelssohn were first recordings. Kreisler knew Brahms, and his performance has unique authority and beauty: the Mendelssohn was always close to the great violinist's heart and is played throughout with a deeply affecting, song-like quality. It's a pity that Pearl's production has to be ruled out of court technically: Biddulph's issue can, on the other hand, be warmly recommended.'