At the end of some gruelling sessions for Nixa, in which he 
                  had essayed concertos by Prokofiev and Khachaturian, Mindru 
                  Katz quietly began playing a Prelude and Fugue from Book II 
                  of the Well Tempered Clavier. The conductor, Adrian Boult, 
                  shushed the departing players and together they listened as 
                  Katz moved quietly and nobly, seemingly oblivious, to the end 
                  of the Fugue. Remembering the event afterwards, Boult recalled 
                  that ‘I had no idea he had that kind of thing in him’. 
                  
                  Indeed he did. Katz has been typecast as a virtuoso concerto 
                  performer, as I have noted before in my reviews of his discs 
                  put out by Cembal d’amour. He was far from that, or – to put 
                  it differently – he commanded a wide repertoire, one that embraced 
                  flourish but also reflection and intimacy, all predicated on 
                  a cast-iron technique and a warm, rounded pearl-toned sense 
                  of projection. 
                  
                  Mindru Katz enjoyed some successful collaborations on disc with 
                  at least two eminent British Knights of the Realm. Boult was 
                  one and Barbirolli was another. It’s the latter who lends his 
                  support in this recording of the Emperor Concerto made 
                  in 1958. It’s been transferred before, by Dutton [CDSJB 1013]. 
                  The recording is balanced somewhat in favour of the piano as 
                  was too often customary – it still is in some places – but this 
                  doesn’t seriously impede listening. The wind lines and their 
                  counter-themes, and the exchanges between them and the piano 
                  are almost always audible. There is refinement as well as fire 
                  in Katz’s playing. As one would expect of this conductor, Barbirolli 
                  ensures that there is considerable rapport and ensemble surety, 
                  and also that there is a strong wash of string tone. There is 
                  a measured legato freshness to Katz’s playing of the central 
                  movement. Firm, even, rounded trills, subtle rubati and excellent 
                  left hand harmonic pointing are components of the playing that 
                  ensure admiration. In the finale too Barbirolli ensures a degree 
                  of élan and Katz plays with a splendid range of colour, mixing 
                  the adamantine and the filigree to advantage. 
                  
                  The rest of the programme is contemporaneous with the Beethoven 
                  recording. There is an introspective, brooding and powerful 
                  Shostakovich Prelude in E flat minor and an elegant, unaffected, 
                  and non-showy Chopin Polonaise in A flat major. In between comes 
                  an impressive traversal of Enescu’s Suite for Piano No. 2 in 
                  D major. Katz deals justly with the incipient grandeur of the 
                  Toccata; so too in the diaphanous warmth and carillon elements 
                  (very romantic) of the Sarabande. The wistful Debussian heritage 
                  is apparent in the Pavane whilst the vitality of the music, 
                  as full of energy in its way as John Foulds’ April-England, 
                  becomes overwhelmingly audible in the ebullient Bourée finale. 
                  
                  
                  This mixed programme usefully documents Katz’s highly persuasive 
                  musicianship on the grandest and most intimate of scales. The 
                  transfers are very sympathetic, the whole enterprise worthy 
                  of Katz’s elevated musicianship. 
                  
                  Jonathan Woolf