These performances are quite unnecessary. There is a certain
                sameness to cellist Ina-Esther Joost Ben-Sasson’s playing
                which is frankly hard to believe: little attention is given to
                making a series of notes sound like a phrase, no playing is softer
                than 
mezzo-piano, dynamic changes are made (when they
                are made at all) suddenly rather than gradually. The music is
                effectively liberated of its emotion. This is what Gabriel Fauré’s
                music sounds like if played by a beginning cellist still too
                worried about sticking the notes to concentrate on expressing
                them. 
                
                More’s the pity because the soloist here, Ina-Esther Joost
                Ben-Sasson, is in fact one of the most important cellists in
                Israel, where she has held the first chair of the Jerusalem Symphony
                Orchestra for twenty years. One of her teachers was Pierre Fournier.
                But, no matter how extensive her pedigree, I simply cannot bring
                myself to like these downright chilly performances. Consider
                the 
Elegie: the melancholy opening line is a mere string
                of notes, not a melody, and what follows is unsubtle and passionless.
                Or listen to the finale of the 
First Cello Sonata, in
                which Joost Ben-Sasson’s inability to play softly does
                considerable harm to Fauré’s expressive writing.
                Pianist Allan Sternfield does his best to compensate with tasteful,
                elegant accompaniment, but his efforts are not enough. 
                
                Why do I use the word “unnecessary” to describe this
                album? Its publisher, Naxos, released a superb compilation of
                Fauré’s cello sonatas just last year, featuring
                the world-class soloist Maria Kliegel and her longtime accompanist,
                Nina Tichman (8.557889 - see 
review). Kliegel has always been
                an emotive performer willing to let her instrument sing, and
                she
                consistently
                gets
                to the
                romantic, deeply felt core of this music. The beautiful 
Elegie is
                the best place to compare the two discs: listen to this Joost
                Ben-Sasson performance first, then put on the Kliegel and marvel
                at her more sensitive touch, her richer tone, and most of all
                the way in which this feels not merely like music at a recital
                but like an actual elegy, dressed in the colours of mourning.
                Listen to how marvelously Kliegel reduces the second statement
                of the opening theme to near-silence, a hushed echo of the original.
                Joost Ben-Sasson seemingly cannot be bothered. 
                
                Or take the charming 
Papillon, or the 
Romance:
                here Joost Ben-Sasson is in better form, but switching to the
                Kliegel recordings reveals once again that Kliegel is on an entirely
                different level. Ben-Sasson is playful and brash; Kliegel, in
                contrast, teases, seduces and lingers over select phrases just
                enough to make one’s ears perk up. Comparison also reveals
                the fact that Joost Ben-Sasson is rather too closely miked, and
                sometimes her playing can take on the nasal quality for which
                the cello is often - but usually unfairly - criticized. 
                
                There are many other wonderful recordings of this music. Steven
                Isserlis on RCA, Frédéric Lodéon on
                EMI, and Paul Tortelier on Warner Apex are among the fine cellists
                to have tackled some or all of the repertoire on this disc. I
                focus on the comparison with Maria Kliegel’s outstanding
                recording, however, because the naturalness, refinement and beautiful
                tone of Kliegel’s playing stands in such contrast to this
                effort, and because the two performances are both to be had at
                the Naxos price. Naxos almost never duplicates repertoire - this
                is a label which has only made one recording of the Mendelssohn
                Violin Concerto, for instance - so why they have chosen to release
                a second set of Fauré’s music for cello and piano,
                a year after the first, is beyond me, especially when the first
                is so obviously superior. I am sure Ina-Esther Joost Ben-Sasson
                had the best of intentions in making this album, and I do not
                wish to criticize the fine effort of accompanist Allan Sternfield,
                but these recordings are simply unnecessary. Where Kliegel plays
                with heart, Joost Ben-Sasson goes through the motions. And the
                difference in sound quality is substantial as well. 
                
                As a part of the Naxos Digital imprint, this album is currently
                only available for download at the website 
Classicsonline, where
                it sells for rather less than the price of a physical compact
                disc. But please do yourself a favor by finding the extra few
                pennies and buying the Kliegel album instead.
                
                
Brian Reinhart