Saint-Saëns has been described as the ‘French 
          Mendelssohn’, and in some ways this is quite appropriate; both were 
          phenomenal child prodigies, both composed music in an infectiously tuneful 
          manner and both have often been dismissed in musical history as ‘lightweight’ 
          and therefore of no real significance. Indeed, Saint-Saëns’ famous 
          remark that he ‘composed as naturally as an apple tree produces apples’ 
          highlights the problem for some; that his sheer technical facility extinguished 
          any spark of originality. Thankfully that opinion has changed, due in 
          no small part to the gramophone, and we are able to judge his work properly 
          and in context, particularly the important cycle of concertos for his 
          own instrument, the piano. 
        
 
        
The resurgence of interest in these works as a whole 
          has gathered pace recently, with Stephen Hough’s Hyperion set surely 
          taking pride of place. There has also been another budget set from Angela 
          Brownridge on ASV, and one should not overlook older but superbly recorded 
          cycles from Rogé and Dutoit (Decca), Collard and Previn (EMI), 
          Ciccolini and Baudo (also EMI), and the important historical set from 
          Jeanne-Marie Darré (French EMI). In the face of such stiff competition 
          (most of which are cheap ‘two-for-ones’) the present set is going to 
          have a tough time finding its foothold in the market. For a start, Brilliant 
          Classics have shot themselves in the foot somewhat, by making this a 
          3 disc set; most collectors will surely only want the concertos, and 
          if they do want the oft-recorded couplings they are both available in 
          much better performances elsewhere. So not only is any price advantage 
          wiped out but the record buyer is possibly forced into unnecessary duplication. 
        
 
        
As for the main items, these are a very patchy affair. 
          They have the distinction of featuring the veteran French pianist and 
          personal friend of Poulenc, Gabriel Tacchino. His glittering virtuosity 
          is very much the best thing here, with the murderously cruel scalic 
          runs and thundering octave work that abound in these pieces despatched 
          with ease. If only the orchestral contribution was as distinguished; 
          listen to the poor intonation in the lower strings in the evocative 
          opening of Concerto No. 1’s slow movement, and also the less-than-well 
          synchronised pizzicatos slightly later in the same movement. It all 
          sounds very under-rehearsed and even Tacchino’s sure touch and feeling 
          for the poetry in these pieces is severely undermined by the shallow 
          recording quality. The only hint at the origins of these performances 
          is a small note on the back of the case saying ‘Licensed from Vox’, 
          so we have to assume they were made in the 60s; even so, the sound is 
          unacceptably harsh and empty, with the upper register of the piano sounding 
          brittle and tinny. Tacchino’s playing deserved better, and it is a measure 
          of his performances (and of course the quality of the music itself) 
          that occasionally the shortcomings are forgotten and one can revel in 
          the zest and joyousness of it all. But turn to any of the other sets 
          and one is in a different league; all the pianists have the requisite 
          technique and artistic insight (listen to Hough in the opening of Concerto 
          No.2– breathtaking!), and all are given more full-bodied and refined 
          orchestral support and recording to match. 
        
 
        
The third disc somewhat seals the fate of this set 
          for me, with a pedestrian rendition of the famous "Organ" 
          Symphony (no match for Dutoit, Tortelier or Munch) given only a 
          marginally better recording. The "Carnival" is a non-starter, 
          with the two (uncredited) pianists appearing to come from different 
          venues, one ‘in-your-face’, and the other about three rooms away! 
        
 
        
In the light of such competition all round, this release 
          smacks a little of jumping on the Saint-Saëns concerto ’bandwagon’; 
          there is no documentation whatsoever, no details of recording venues 
          or dates, and all round one can only conclude that even the most impecunious 
          collector can do better elsewhere. 
          Tony Haywood