These 1970 performances from Jacqueline du Pré with husband Daniel Barenboim on piano are some of the late musician's best. Though Elgar's Cello Concerto is definitely du Pré's masterpiece, her take on Beethoven's Cello Sonatas are great documents that also stand the test of time. She brings her trademark warmth and a big tone to the works, especially striking in the Rondo of the second of Sonata, where she proves an equal match to her husband's passionate playing. As with many du Pré recordings, there are some inconsistent notes, but the spirit of her playing shines through. Beethoven's cello variations–included here on the tail end of disc 2–are great showpieces for du Pré and an added bonus. –Jason Verlinde
Jacqueline du Pré was recognized during her brief prime as one of the supreme cellists of the 20th century, with an intense commitment and a well-honed technical mastery to back up her heaven-sent talents. She seemed to inhabit every piece she played and the public responded joyfully to her interpretations of such concertos as the Elgar and the Schumann, as well as the sonatas of Beethoven, Brahms, Franck et al. She was also at the centre of an extraordinary group of young friends who set the classical musical agenda for the 1960s. The way her career was snatched away from her by a remorseless illness, leading to her early death, has inevitably cast a romantic glow over her life story. So it is salutary to visit or revisit this treasury of her recordings - almost all of them painstakingly remastered from the original tapes, and including previously unissued performances - and remind ourselves just how great she was.
Her story is one of the most legendary of all twentieth century musicians' stories, and also, one of the most tragic. Cellist Jacqueline Du Pré, born on January 26, 1945, in Oxford, England, to Derek and Iris Du Pré. (Despite the family name, Derek Du Pré was not French, but rather of British Channel Island ancestry; he could trace his lineage back to the Norman Conquest).
If ever a performance of Schumann's Piano Concerto stressed the principle of dialogue between soloist and conductor, then this is it. True, the Philharmonia's string ensemble isn't as watertight under Fischer-Dieskau as it might have been under some other conductors; and poetry is invested at the premium of relatively low-level drama. Orchestral textures are absolutely right for Schumann – warm yet transparent, full-bodied yet never stodgy – and poetry is a major priority. Add Barenboim's compatible vision and keyboard finesse, and you indeed have a memorable reading.