Mozart is on inspired form in these wonderful works, and so is Alfred Brendel. In the K. 533/494 Sonata, the pianist reaches levels of nuance, timing, and harmonic shading only hinted at in his admirable 1992 recording of the same work. He deftly organizes the first movement’s restless canonic motion so that the entrances sound as if they come from different instruments. The slow movement acquires a newfound serenity and unforced lyricism. Brendel fuses delicacy and strength to marvelous effect in the Rondo, although the movement’s music-box-like textures don’t quite shimmer as they did when I heard Brendel play the work at Carnegie Hall in April, 2002. Whereas Brendel observed all the repeats in 1992, here he wisely omits the second ones in the first two movements.
The serenity I refer to above spills over into the A minor K. 310 sonata. Brendel’s 1985 recording took a turbulent and sometimes tight-fisted approach to the outer movements. Here, however, the music’s aching drama takes on an affecting introspection and grace. The D major sonata K. 311 matches my memories of the aforementioned Carnegie concert in how Brendel projects the slow movement’s long-lined diminuendos without a trace of archness and aligns the finale’s cascading runs as perfectly as he gauges its Haydnesque silences.
While Brendel still depends on the pedal to achieve much of his legato effects, his staccato articulation has gained a pungent roundness that evokes the composer’s skillful woodwind writing, as the beautifully played and proportioned D minor Fantasy bears out. Of all of Brendel’s recent solo Mozart discs, this one comes closest to accurately reproducing the pianist’s difficult-to-record sonority, though his vocal grimaces sometimes distract (at least they haven’t reached Pollini’s irritating extremes!). In all, a release to savor. [5/3/2003]
