PABLO CASALS - The Pristine Collection - PABX055

Casals' finest recordings as never heard before

XR remastering strips away the decades to reveal incredible detail and nuance

Classic cello recordings from one of the all-time greats

Casals sounds incredibly fresh in these new XR-remastered transfers

The major concerto recordings of Pablo Casals, in particular that of the Dvorák Cello Concerto of 1937, have been staples of the classical catalogue ever since their original releases. At the time of writing there are several issues available in different transfers by different labels, and it is surely fair, therefore, to ask why the world needs yet another transfer.

The truth of the matter is that this release came out of an instance of pure curiosity on my part. I had received, in amongst a major collection of LP records, a vinyl transcription of the Dvorák on a white-label test pressing that appeared to have been barely, if ever, played. I confess I have no idea whether this transfer was released, and if so, when - it was simply to serve as a quick and easy means of subjecting the recording to an XR remastering test - I certainly was not expecting the results of this to merit issue.

However, the LP transfer turned out to be much better than I had expected, and the XR remastering brought such new life to it that I decided to persevere with it, needing only to drop in a couple of short sections from alternative sources where top-end quality was less than excellent. Sitting close by was another test pressing, this time the Boccherini Cello Concerto No 9 with Casals conducting and Maurice Gendron playing. Investigations suggested that this was the first time Boccherini's original - rather than Grützmacher's bastardised version - had been recorded, and that it dated from 1958 but appeared since to have disappeared from the catalogue. I quickly got to work on this stereo recording with the intention of partnering it with the Dvorák, only to discover at the last minute that the erudite and well-respected author of the notes from which I'd taken the recording date was out by a matter of two years, and that the recording itself would remain in copyright until 2012.

Turning - in need of some other recording to add to this release - to the Pristine Audio collection of 78s, I dug out the older recording of Brahm's Double Concerto. As it dates from 1929 my hopes were less high than for the Dvorák, but despite some noisier sides I was extremely impressed with how these came out. The XR process not only opened out upper frequencies and harmonics beyond those normally heard, it also unleashed an unusually rich acoustic from the recording venue which had been somewhat squashed before.

The Double Concerto recording contains clues as to why the XR process can be so successful in reviving older cello recordings - whereas the cello's harmonics are generally quite well represented in the limited frequency range of 1929 recording equipment, there are points where Thibaud's highest harmonics have a tendency to distort and thus produce a less pleasant sound. That said, it's still a remarkably clear and balanced recording for its day, and now far clearer and cleaner than ever before.

Finally, as a result of recent diligent cataloguing work of the darker recesses of our collection by our archivist, I discovered the Boccherini disc tucked away in a large album of mixed 78s and in very good condition. As it was recorded in Barcelona shortly after the Brahms I decided to add it to the concerto recordings as a kind of musical stepping stone between the larger works. Again the remastering process brought out much clarity, warmth and a lovely reverberant acoustic to complement the instruments.

Andrew Rose

"Pablo Casals is probably the most astonishing figure of any musician of our day, all the more astonishing because everything he achieves is so simple and is always naturally right; and it may be because he has the most sensitive ear possible, and he uses it all the time. But, of course, his also very passionate nature, which he has entirely under control, is probably, with his upbringing, the cause of his greatness. He is a most typical Catalan, which must not be confused with Spaniards proper - they are as different as the Celts are from the Anglo-Saxons - and you must know that the education there is all in the hands of the monks, who give their pupils a complete training in Gregorian Music, which is a wonderful foundation to any musical training. As a matter of fact, Casals wrote a number of choral works in his youth, and a cycle, called The Twelve Months, which I heard two summers ago when I was spending my holiday at Vendrell (Casals' native town near Tarragona), and which contains some lovely music. He wanted to be a composer, and although he studied the violin first he was attracted towards the 'cello only because, when he saw one for the first time at his father's house, he thought the shape of it was so fine! He does not spend much time on practising the 'cello, but he learns everything mentally from the score. Conducting is really what he enjoys most, and, apart from his work, what he likes best is to be at San Salvador by the sea smoking his pipe after lunch at the little casino (only a cafe), where he plays games of trezilio (a most complicated card game) with his friends during the holidays.

I had the pleasure of spending a wonderful day there two years ago on the occasion of a fete that was given to Casals by the "Commune," to which he had presented a piece of ground on the sea front to be used for the national dance - the Sardana. Casals was at the height of happiness, all the people there gathered on the new "Place Publique," where the Cobla of Barcelona had assembled and was going to play the ritual music - for Catalans the Sardana is almost a religious rite - it is the most reverential form of dancing I have watched; men dance it together with very serious expressions; women join in the happy circle as the dance goes on, and the whole effect is most impressive. As an expression of rhythm it is also unequalled.

This little snapshot I took just before the dance began shows Casals with his two nieces-his violinist brother Enrique's children. Casals, who thinks also a great deal of sport, has built a tennis court next to his villa, and as it is the only one for miles around, he allows anybody who likes to come and play on it. He himself used to play a very good game although he had so little training, but his head work was so strong that he always managed to score. As he wrote on [a] photograph of the Trio taken years ago with the Hungarian composer, Em. Moor, "C'est moi qui gagne " - which is Casals' real motto."

André Mangeot, The Gramophone, December 1927

(André Louis Mangeot (25 August 1883 – 11 September 1970) was a French-born violinist and impresario. He founded the International String Quartet in 1919, to which he invited the young John Barbirolli to become its cellist. This specialised in modern works, especially by young British composers. They made the first recording of Maurice Ravel’s String Quartet in 1927 and collaborated in the first (broadcast) performance of Benjamin Britten’s Phantasy Quartet in 1933. Later he formed the André Mangeot Quartet in 1947.)

The late genius of Pablo Casals - his first and his final post-war concerto recordings

Live festival recordings - including the much sought-after stereo Dvorák from Puerto Rico in 1960

At the end of the Second World War, Pablo Casals hoped that the Allied forces which had just ousted Hitler would now turn their attention to removing the dictator Franco from Spain. When they showed no inclination to do so, he broke off a London recording session of the Haydn D Major Cello Concerto in October, 1945 and withdrew to his French home in Prades near the Spanish border, vowing not to perform publicly again until democracy was restored to his homeland.

He was drawn out of his self-imposed silence by Budapest Quartet violinist Alexander Schneider, who first approached him for coaching help with the Bach violin suites, and who later suggested holding a festival in Prades to mark the 200th anniversary of Bach’s death in 1950. American Columbia was brought in to make recordings, a series which continued as the festival expanded its purview beyond Bach and moved to larger quarters in nearby Perpignan in 1951, returning to Prades the following year.

While Casals had conducted and played in chamber music performances, the Schumann from the 1953 festival was his first concerto recording as a soloist since the aborted Haydn set. Interestingly, master accompanist Eugene Ormandy was not credited on the original LP, nor on its first reissue in the budget-priced Odyssey series, probably for contractual reasons. In 1957, a new series of Casals festivals was begun in Puerto Rico, where the cellist had recently married and made his home. It was there that his final concerto recording was made.

The Dvořák has an interesting history. Recorded by Everest during the 1960 Puerto Rico festival, it remained unapproved when the label changed hands shortly thereafter. The new owners found the tape in a box and issued it, believing they owned the rights. Casals promptly sued to have the release withdrawn, claiming it damaged his reputation. It has never subsequently been reissued in any authorized edition from the Everest masters, although a couple European CD releases, apparently transferred from monaural sources, have appeared. The original suppressed LP is now a highly sought-after collector’s item. I was fortunate to have two stereo pressings in good condition to work from for the present transfer. (The first note, incidentally, is clipped on the original recording.)

While Casals is admittedly not in top form, his performance brings to mind Dr. Johnson’s famous Eighteenth Century witticism likening a woman preaching to a dog walking on its hind legs (“It is not done well; but you are surprised to find it done at all.”) Considering that he was in his 84th year at the time, it is a remarkable achievement; and Schneider’s heartfelt, sympathetic accompaniment matches his soloist like the veteran chamber player he was. It’s an autumnal reading quite different from Casals’s brisker 1937 recording with Szell (Pristine PASC 246), and one which despite its flaws deserves to be heard.

Mark Obert-Thorn

Thibaud, Cortot & Casals play Schubert

1926 classic remastered for finest sound quality

Of these recordings, the Schubert was the first, recorded in July 1926. This session ran so well and so smoothly that the trio, who'd always concentrated on the perfection of a relatively limited repertoire, was able to record Beethoven's Kakadu Variations and the same time.

Despite the age of the recording and the use of very early electric recording technology - microphones were introduced into the recording process commercially in 1925 - this remains an amazingly powerful and valuable record of one of the great trios of all time. Every exquisite nuance of playing, phrasing and timing is preserved for the listener's enjoyment, and what residual surface noise remains is quickly forgotten in this magical performance.

Andrew Rose