The 12 Transcendental Etudes are the ultimate test of quasi-orchestral virtuosity and of the capacity to achieve nobility and true eloquence. Jandó perhaps lacks diabolic frisson in the more ferocious numbers but his performances, overall, aren't disfigured by willful, sensational attributes or hysteria. No-1 is an impressive, dramatically pointed, curtain-raiser, and he can hell-raise with assurance in 'Mazeppa'. His 'Feux follets' hardly sparks with the brilliance of, say, some of the full-blooded accounts of certain Russian artists, but even when it hardly modulates from study to tone-poem it's still more than capable (higher praise than you might think where such intricacy is concerned). He flashes an impressive rapier at the start of 'Eroica' and there's plenty of swagger and facility in the so-called 'Appassionata' étude. 'Chasse-neige', too, proceeds with a fine sense of it's menacing start to a howling, elemental uproar before returning to distant thunder. Jandó is less assured in introspection, yet it has to be said that all-encompassing versions of the Transcendental Etudes are hard to come by. Jandó is impressively recorded.

"[Steen-Nokleberg's] playing brims in turn with charm, pathos, nostalgia, simplicity, drama and whatever else is needed – invariably appropriate, straightforward, unaffected and vivid. The Holberg Suite has a performance of unparalleled vigour and charm. It’s almost impossible to imagine this music better interpreted. Sound quality is good and value is excellent indeed. I’m looking forward to the other discs."

-- Jessica Duchen, BBC Music Magazine

"This CD includes the poignant Ballade in G minor, Op. 24, composed by Grieg on the death of his parents. Steen-Nokleerg is highly imaginative and...the keyboard colouring is subtle and rich. He conveys a splendidly rhapsodic spontaneity and there is much feeling. This [disc] deserves a particularly strong recommendation."

Penguin Guide [2003/4 Edition]

Beethoven's Sonatas Probably the best known of Beethoven's sonatas are the Pathetique, Moonlight and Appassionata. Only the first name was given by the composer. The Moonlight Sonata has it's name from the inspiration of the poet Rellstab (whose verses were to be set to music by Schubert). Writing in 1832 he likened the sonata to the wild scenery bordering Lake Lucerne, seen from a boat by moonlight. The French romantic composer Berlioz, on the other hand, preferred to see sunlight in the sonata, and other writers have been equally imaginative. Sonata No.8 in C Minor, Op. 13 "Pathetique" The Sonata pathetique was written in 1798 and 1799, and was published in the latter year with a dedication to Prince Lichnowsky, the nobleman who had travelled to the court of Berlin with Mozart in 1789. The work, Opus 13, is in C Minor, and is described as a "Grande" Sonata, music suitable for public performance by the composer, who was at this time one of the most distinguished keyboard-players in Vienna. Sonata No.14 in C Sharp Minor 'quasi una fantasia' Op. 27, No.2 "Moonlight" The Moonlight Sonata is more properly described by it's title Sonata quasi una fantasia, Opus 27 No.1, in the key of C Sharp Minor. The imaginative writer Arnold Schering, already referred to, found a literary parallel with Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice, but others have chosen to find in the sonata romantic notions of a different kind. It was completed in 1801, and dedicated, at the last minute, to Countess Giulietta Guicciardi, a young pupil of Beethoven. Sonata No.23 in F Minor, Op. 57 "Appassionata" Sonata in F Minor, Opus 57, the Appassionata, was considered by Beethoven to be among his best piano sonatas. It's nick-name, although not chosen by the com- poser, is an apt one, although Schering's parallel with Shakespeare's MacBeth may appeal to us less. Dedicated to the Countess of Brunswick, the sonata was completed in 1805 and published two years later.

"We can start with the celestial heights of Casals and Serkin. These discs were made at the Prades Festival concerts in 1952 and 1953, and now and then you will hear the great man Casals grunt as he attacks a phrase. Casals was 76 in 1952, and his bow arm was in less than perfect control but this performance is classic."
-– Herbert Russcol, WQXR, 1969

"Humane and wonderfully wise…a revelation of warm, human, profound interpretation."
-– Edward Sackville-West (1901–1965), novelist and music critic

"Excellent both tonally and in matters of balance. Two perfectly matched musicians operate here. For every bold stroke of the Casals bow there is an equivalently authoritative gesture from Serkin."
-– Harold Schoenberg, (1915 – 2003) author and New York Times music critic