Wispelwey, Netherlands-born, was enlisted to replace the scheduled but ailing Truls Mørk; New York critics in the past couple of weeks had been raving over Wispelwey’s solo performances there, and well they might. The Dvorák is every cellist’s bread and butter, and every listener’s favorite weep-along, but its wonders do not pale. Every collection worth its shelf space must have its versions by Casals, du Pré, Rostropovich (maybe half a dozen), Yo-Yo . . . And yet you wait for the message in that opening down-bow on the B natural to christen the next performance; it is one of music’s greatest single notes. It was greatly played this time. So were the ensuing notes, every one.
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