Both these pieces 
                  have good showings in the current catalogue, but I think this 
                  is the first time they’ve been paired together, and it makes 
                  good sense.
                
The Trio is an amazingly 
                  assured work for a not-quite-teenager, bold in its harmonic 
                  language and generous in its melodic ideas. Indeed, it’s easy 
                  to see why Korngold scholars hold this piece up as the epitome 
                  of his youthful genius, pointing out that virtually everything 
                  we have come to love in the mature composer can be found here. 
                  The first movement’s glorious second subject - first heard around 
                  1:50 - fair sweeps you off your feet with its Rachmaninov-like 
                  dash. The cheeky chromatic side-stepping of the following scherzo 
                  obviously puts one in mind of Richard Strauss, but at the same 
                  time sounds like pure Korngold and it’s no surprise to learn 
                  that later the resourceful 16-year-old composer reused its main 
                  theme in his first opera, Der Ring des Polykrates (1913). 
                  Slow movements were always his forte, as it were, and the larghetto 
                  here is no exception, warm, generous melody underpinned by an 
                  exotic bed of harmony. The young man knew  he was inviting comparison 
                  with Beethoven by labelling a Piano Trio as his Opus 1, and 
                  the energetic finale rounds off what must be one of the most 
                  confident, brilliant and mature works by a 12-year-old in history 
                  – Mendelssohn and Mozart notwithstanding. It’s no wonder it 
                  took the Viennese public by storm and was taken up by the starry 
                  trio of Bruno Walter, Friedrich Buxbaum and Arnold Rosé. The 
                  Trio Parnassus invests it with all the vigour required and Chia 
                  Chou clearly enjoys the virtuosic piano part that the composer 
                  himself played so often.
                
The Suite of 1934 
                  is recognizably from the same hand, but the writing is that 
                  bit more complex, rich and daring. The instrumental layout is 
                  quite original, and is another Wittgenstein commission to go 
                  along with the Left Hand Concerto Korngold had written for him 
                  in 1923. Here I’m not quite as convinced by the Parnassus’s 
                  approach, which for me misses some of the work’s tenderness 
                  and lyricism. Perhaps I’ve been spoilt by the 1998 all-star 
                  Sony version featuring Yo-Yo Ma, Joseph Silverstein, Jaime Laredo 
                  and Leon Fleisher, a performance which is a tad slower in every 
                  movement without losing energy, but seems to radiate love of 
                  the music. The slow movement, aptly entitled Lied, is a real 
                  Mahlerian lament for old Vienna, with the yearning appoggiaturas 
                  and sighing upbeats of the Fifth Symphony’s famous adagietto 
                  the obvious model. Here, the 
                
Parnassus’s cellist 
                  betrays the odd intonation problem in the cruelly exposed chromatic 
                  bass lines, whilst the piano sounds like it needs the attention 
                  of a tuner in certain registers. It’s quite a bold, incisive 
                  performance overall, and maybe I wouldn’t be quite so critical 
                  if I hadn’t lived with the Sony disc for so long, so newcomers 
                  probably won’t have too much to complain about, especially as 
                  the Sony appears to be deleted at present.
                
              
The sound is quite 
                resonant for intimate chamber music, but as with other Trio Parnassus 
                discs, there’s a real spirit and energy which has its own listening 
                rewards, especially in the Op.1 Trio. The music itself is the 
                epitome of glorious late-Romanticism, and if you like the coupling 
                – which is possibly the most sensible there is – you can certainly 
                buy with confidence.
                
                Tony Haywood