It was Abram Chasins, the American pianist and critic, who noted in Solomon a 'proportionate grandeur that instead of seeming to lack power appeared not to desire it.' Others have spoken of his 'matchless austerity', and listening once more to his Mozart is to be reminded of the essential truth of such comments. Mozart may have felt that K450 (No 15) is a concerto 'to make the pianist sweat', but it's difficult to imagine even a single bead of perspiration on Solomon's brow as he tosses off cascades of notes with superlative ease and elegance. In his hands the Andante's set of variations comes as close to Elysium as you could wish, while the finale has a delectable lightness that makes it a true dance of the gods.
In K488 (No 23), Solomon's lucidity, in the canonic interplay, for example, is of a sort granted to very few pianists, and his refinement in the closing pages of the ineffable F sharp minor Adagio suggests all his inimitable but lightly worn authority. In K491 (No 24) he shares with Clara Haskil, another supremely prized Mozartian, a characteristic way of taking one of Mozart's two minor-key concertos by stealth rather than by storm, though he compensates for what some may see as undue restraint by giving us Saint-Saëns' storming cadenza. The 1953-5 recordings have been superbly remastered, and his musical partners, Otto Ackermann and Herbert Menges, are as inspired as their soloist.