Monday, January 3, 2022

We now hear our "elite" violin concertos in their entirety

As we edge forward with our Mendelssohn "sidebar" -- as I just explained -- it's time to hear these concertos in full.
[TUESDAY UPDATE: You might watch for updates to this post, like the one I just added for the Brahms Concerto.]

Last week ("Rondomania: A quick hit at violin-concerto rondo finales looking back from Mendelssohn to Mozart and Beethoven and ahead to Brahms and Sibelius"), pursuing the Mendelssohn "sidebar" that grew out of the Nov. 28 post "One Sunday afternoon in
August 1943 in Carnegie Hall . . .
," we listened to the great chain of violin concertos with rondo finales stretching out before and after Mendelssohn. I said at the time that I'd really like to be able to present those concertos in full. Well, here they are!


This all still needs to be integrated with a mostly written first part that continues the Mendelssohnian thread. And probably it should be improved in all sorts of other ways. I wouldn't hold my breath about that part, though. -- Ken

AGAIN, WE REALLY HAVE TO START WITH MOZART

In our original consideration of the place of the rondo finale in the line of the great violin concertos, we started with Mozart --

• not because he invented either the violin concerto or the rondo or even the use of the rondo in violin (and other) concertos, which he didn't, but because he grasped the possibilities of this combination in a way, or ways, that made it stick.

• and not because Mozart's violin concertos, taken on their own, are equivalent in stature to the line of violin concertos they did so much to inspire. The form -- the Classical concerto, that is, not to be confused with the Baroque one -- was still too new to aspire to that stature. (Thank you once again, Herr Beethoven.)

Not that the three "mature" concertos (which followed with scarcely any separation from the not-yet-mature ones) can't still hold their own on a concert platform. But you kind of feel that the audience needs at minimum a somewhat bigger kick, and the performer has to put out a portion more to earn his/her fee. So, with no disrespect to any of these much-loved works, I'm thinking of them maybe more as a collective than as separate entires in our violin-concerto sweepstakes. (If it were piano concertos we were tracking, I'm not sure I would take the same position. But Mozart's piano concertos come from a more developed stage of his creative energies. There are at least half a dozen Mozart piano concertos I'd consider worthy of inclusion in such a survey.

BUT: We're skipping the Mozart Violin Concertos Nos. 1-2

The earlier concertos continue to be heard, though perhaps most often as part of cycles of the "complete" Mozart violin concertos. And they deserve to be heard. In really good performances -- as is often the case with works of lesser quality, they require a higher level of performance to hold listeners' attention -- they can both make considerable impact. However, they're not the works that continue to make the violin concerto a must-hear subset of Mozart's vast output. So, with no further ado --

THE "MATURE" MOZART VIOLIN CONCERTOS

Violin Concerto No. 3 in G, K. 216 (1775):
i. Allegro
ii. Adagio
iii. Rondeau: Allegro



[ii. at 9:16; iii. at 17:46] Isaac Stern, violin and cond.; Columbia Chamber Orchestra. Columbia-CBS-Sony, recorded in Columbia 30th Street Studio, New York City, Mar. 28, 1950

[ii. at 10:29; iii. at 20:18] Gioconda de Vito, violin; Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Rafael Kubelik, cond. EMI, recorded in Abbey Road Studio No. 1, Jan. 21-22 & Nov. 6, 1959

Violin Concerto No. 4 in D, K. 218 (1775):
i. Allegro
ii. Andante cantabile
iii. Rondeau: Andante grazioso -- Allegro ma non troppo



[ii. at 9:25; iii. at 17:49] Fritz Kreisler, violin; London Philharmonic Orchestra, Malcolm Sargent, cond. EMI, recorded (in Abbey Road Studio No. 1?), Feb. 11, 1939

[ii. at 8:31; iii. at 14:39] Nathan Milstein, violin; Lausanne Chamber Orchestra, Paul Kletzki, cond. Claves, recorded live, 1971

Violin Concerto No. 5 in A, K. 219 (Turkish) (1775):
i. Allegro aperto
ii. Adagio
iii. Rondeau: Tempo di menuetto -- Allegro



[ii. at 9:11; iii. at 19:10] Arthur Grumiaux, violin; Vienna Symphony Orchestra, Bernhard Paumgartner, cond. Philips, recorded October 1954

[ii. at 9:45; iii. at 21:01] David Oistrakh, violin and cond.; Berlin Philharmonic. EMI, recorded in the Gemeindehaus, Berlin-Zehlendorf, November 1970


ALONG COMES BEETHOVEN, AND EVERYTHING CHANGES

Well, not everything. It only seems that way. Just as Beethoven's symphonic output, significant a leap as it represents from Mozart's, seems looking in retrospect like a natural evolution, so too with the "big" concertos, with first movements that move up to and over the 20-minute mark.

BEETHOVEN: Violin Concerto in D, Op. 61:
i. Allegro ma non troppo
ii. Larghetto
iii. Rondo: Allegro



[ii. at 20:53; iii. at 29:39] Jascha Heifetz, violin; New York Philharmonic, Artur Rodzinsky, cond. Live performance from Carnegie Hall, Jan. 14, 1945

[i. 22:50; ii. 9:40; iii. 9:41] Joseph Szigeti, violin; New York Philharmonic, Bruno Walter, conductor. Columbia, recorded in Carnegie Hall, Apr. 5, 1947

These performances come from the very time, 1943-45, as the performances and recordings that set us off in this journey ("One Sunday afternoon in August 1943 in Carnegie Hall . . .," Nov. 28). Indeed, Bruno Walter was in the thick of it, as conductor of the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto recording with Nathan Milstein and the New York Phiharmonic we used to simulate the performance from that afternoon in August 1943 when Fritz Reiner conducted the NY Phil with Milstein as soloist in the Mendelssohn.

That said, the performances could hardly be more different. The Heifetz-Rodzinsky, like all the Heifetz performances of the Beethoven Concerto I've heard (definitely including the stereo recording with Munch, which some readers will recall was my first recording of the piece, and probably still the one I love best), it's streamlined for business, and goes straight to the heart of the piece. By contrast Walter and Joseph Szigeti, working in enviable harmony, set a more wayward path, in particular through the massive first movement, with Walter providing all the cushion Szigeti needs for sorts of arrestingly beautiful realizations not quite like anything I've heard. It may be worth noting that Szigeti and Walter weren't strangers; they had in fact recorded the Beethoven Concerto together 15 years earlier in London. The New York performance, though, seems to me very much the model of the "American" Bruno Walter, who found appetite and leisure for a more personal kind of music-making that would have startled his continental admirers. And Szigeti's personal responsiveness and frequent eloquence amply compensate, for me, for his along-the-way technical imperfections.

Now, starting in the very same time frame, we land in --
Our own little "Menuhin Beethoven Project"

It's generally accepted that -- to borrow a metaphor from Tully Potter's booklet note for EMI's posthumous release of Yehudi Menuhin's 1971 self-conducted Beethoven Concerto recording -- lightning having struck when Menuhin and Wilhelm Furtwängler recorded the concerto in the Lucerne Kunsthaust on Aug. 27-28, 1947 (the first of the soloist's eventual six commercial recordings), it didn't strike again when they rerecorded the piece in London's Kingsway Hall in April 1953. Alas, of the two, the only one I've ever owned is the very pretty (and beautifully recorded) but pretty staid 1953 one. (The 1927 version can be heard on YouTube.)

I do have what at least purports to be a live performance from Berlin a month after the Lucerne recording, in not-so-great sound (and missing the opening-bar timpani taps, which as noted I've spliced in from the 1953 Menuhin-Furtwängler-Philharmonia recording); it's certainly a more "alive" performance than the respectful 1953 one. (For a change, listening to bits and pieces in the course of making the new audio files, I find myself of more than one mind. For goodness' sake, this is a beautiful performance. Especially considering that we slipped into this seemingly unending violin-concerto inquiry via the back door of the concertos' rondo finales, it's hard not to love what Menuhin and Furtwängler did here.)


[ii. at 23:51; iii. at 34:10] Yehudi Menuhin, violin; Berlin Philharmonic, Wilhelm Furtwängler, cond. Live performance from the Titania Palast, Sept. 30, 1947
[NOTE: The timpani-tap-tap opening bar, missing from my source, is spliced in from the 1953 Menuhin-Furtwängler. (We can't start the Beethoven Violin Concerto without it, can we?)]

[ii. at 23:55; iii. at 33:33] Yehudi Menuhin, violin; Philharmonia Orchestra, Wilhelm Furtwängler, cond. EMI, recorded in Kingsway Hall, Apr. 7-8, 1953

[ii. at 23:38; iii. at 34:27] Yehudi Menuhin, violin and cond.; Menuhin Festival Orchestra. EMI, recorded in Kingsway Hall, Nov. 16-18, 1971 (published posthumously, 2003)

Still, the YM performance I really wanted to get to was the 1971 self-conducted one, which Menuhin didn't approve for publication, for reasons that Tully P divines plausibly in the aforementioned booklet note: "minute lapses in ensemble between soloist and orchestra and a certain lack of power in Menuhin's own contribution -- at the start of the finale in particular." He's quick to note the performance's "positive side," though: "The orchestral playing is light and airy Menuhin (choosing the Kreisler cadenzas as usual) is on good form and the performance has a pleasing classical air" He sums up: "How good it is that this fine experiment is now being released, so it can take its place in the chronicle of the concerto and one of its greatest interpreters." I agree and would go a step further: This may be the most achingly and exhilaratingly personal performance I know of one of the most personal pieces in the classical literature.

BRAHMS AND BEYOND

For now we're discreetly skipping over our jumping-off point in this pursuit, the Mendelssohn E minor Concerto (c1844), of which we've heard quite a lot and will still be hearing more. As always, Brahms's deep knowledge and understanding of Beethoven made his approach to writing a violin concerto even harder than it would have been -- he pushed himself so hard that composing was almost always strenuous labor for him. Is it necessary to point out that the Violin Concerto he wound up creating is in every way a worthy successor, or perhaps companion, to Beethoven's? And then, in eerie succession, as I noted last week, come the great violin concertos of Tchaikovsky and Dvořák.

BRAHMS: Violin Concerto in D, Op. 77 (c1877):
i. Allegro non troppo
ii. Adagio
iii. Allegro giocoso, ma non troppo vivace -- Poco più presto



[ii. at 21:48; iii. at 31:08] David Oistrakh, violin; Moscow Radio Symphony Orchestra, Kirill Kondrashin, cond. Melodiya, recorded c1951

[ii. at 22:28; iii. at 31:44] Henryk Szeryng, violin; Czech Philharmonic Orchestra, Erich Leinsdorf, cond. Praga, broadcast performance, May 29, 1971

TUESDAY UPDATE: Between them these two superlative, seemingly could-play-anything-superlatively violinists racked up more commercial recordings of the Brahms Violin Concerto than I have the strength to count. And I wouldn't dare try to count the live performances that have circulated.

Or the YouTube representations, many in surprisingly good sound. Starting with David Oistrakh, there are fine-sounding postings of the EMI stereo recordings with Otto Klemperer (from Paris, June 1960) and with George Szell (from Cleveland, May 1969).

Just in the stereo era Henryk Szeryng made two glorious recordings -- don't ask me to choose between them! You'll want to check out: (1) the majestic and humane June 1958 RCA-Decca version with Pierre Monteux and the London Symphony, which garnered from one commenter the entirely accurate comment "WOW!" and from another commenter a reminder that Monteux, astonishingly, was 83 at the time; and (2) the possibly still grander April 1971 Phiips version with Bernard Haitink and the Concertgebouw Orchestra.

By the way, speaking of Szeryng, it's wonderful to have, on the website devoted to this great violinist, what looks on quick acquaintance to be a really well-done discography, compiled by Jean-Michel Molkhou (copyrighted September 2021).

TCHAIKOVSKY: Violin Concerto in D, Op. 35 (1878):
i. Allegro moderato
ii. Canzonetta: Andante
iii. Finale: Allegro vivacissimo



[i. 16:48; ii. 6:15; iii. 7:38] Nathan Milstein, violin; Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Frederick Stock, cond. Columbia, recorded in Orchestra Hall, Mar. 6, 1940 [digital transfer by F. Reeder]
[i. 16:26; ii. 5:58; iii. 8:19] Jascha Heifetz, violin; London Philharmonic Orchestra, John Barbirolli, cond. EMI, recorded in Abbey Road Studio No. 1, Mar. 25, 1935 [digital transfer by F. Reeder]

I can't claim to know these performances well, unlike later recordings of both Menuhin and Heifetz. I'm still trying to think of a more recent performance we could slot in here without even-more-than-usually trampling on copyrights. Meanwhile, I thought it might be fun to pair up this duo, whose careers for so long ran alongside each other, at this earlyish stage.

DVOŘÁK: Violin Concerto in A minor, Op. 53 (c1879,
revised 1880, 1882):
i. Allegro ma non troppo
ii. Adagio ma non troppo
iii. Finale: Allegro giocoso ma non troppo



[("Andante moderato" of i. at 9:33) ii. at 10:21.5; iii. at 20:45] Isaac Stern, violin; New York Philharmonic, Dimitri Mitropoulos, cond. Live performance from Carnegie Hall, Mar. 4, 1951

[("Andante moderato" of i. at 10:17) ii. at 11:25; iii. at 21:17] Johanna Martzy, violin; RIAS Symphony Orchestra (Berlin), Ferenc Fricsay, cond. DG, recorded in the Jesus-Christus-Kirche, June 1953

[("Andante moderato" of i. at 9:52) ii. at 10:53; iii. at 22:07] Josef Suk, violin; BBC Symphony Orchestra, Sir Malcolm Sargent, cond. BBC Legends, live performance from the "Proms," Royal Albert Hall, Aug. 12, 1964

You may recall that the Dvořák Concerto was a late addition to our roster of the elite violin concertos, but I think our trio of performances make the case persuasively. It was a given that we would have to hear a performance by that Czech master Josef Suk, who along with his mastery of the instrument embodied for me in the highest degree all the things that make fine Czech musicians so special: the songfulness, generosity of spirit, courage in the face of adversity, and honesty of spirit. And of course he was literally born to play the music of Dvořák, his great-grandfather. (His grandfather, the still-semi-famous composer Josef Suk, a favorite pupil of Dvořák, married his mentor's cherished daughter Otilie.

Suk's back-home recordings of the had the inestimable value of native support from the Czech Philharmonic under Václav Neumann (1978) and, better still, Karel Ančerl (1960). But Malcolm Sargent could be a top-quality exemplar of a dizzying range of kinds of conductor. In this context it's worth remembering that he coaxed from the Royal Philharmonic, hardly a hotbed of Czechoslovak empathy, a thoroughly first-rate recording of Smetana's Má Vlast symphonic-poem cycle. Sir Malcolm also had way-above-average aptitude as a concerto partner, and while the immense Albert Hall isn't exactly conducive to the kind of intimacy the piece specializes in, the performance seems to me a triumph.

The Stern-Mitropoulos and Martzy-Fricsay performances go considerably further in internationalizing the piece. Stern of course made a lovely commercial recording with Eugene Ormandy, and one thing he brings to the piece is, with no sacrifice of lyrical capability, his sheer power as a violinist, and Dimitri Mitropoulos has the NY Phil backing him well.

The Martzy performance is new to me, and I like it a lot. This is the most expansive performance of the Dvořák Concerto I've heard, and the most quietly impassioned. Marzy seems to revel in the brooding, introspective quality of the first movement -- very much an "A minor mood" -- and she's in her element in the slow movement. Which makes for even more striking exhilaration when the concluding rondo bursts out in its uplifting A-major (for a work that began, remember in A minor) E-string shimmer.

SIBELIUS: Violin Concerto in D minor, Op. 47 (1904, revised 1905):
i. Allegro moderato
ii. Adagio di molto
iii. Allegro ma non tanto



[i. 14:19; ii. 6:50; iii. 6:53] Jascha Heifetz, violin; London Philharmonic Orchestra, Sir Thomas Beecham, cond. EMI, recorded in Abbey Road Studio No. 1, Nov. 26, 1935 [digital transfer by F. Reeder]

[ii. at 15:19; iii. at 23:21] Georg Kulenkampff, violin; Berlin Philharmonic, Wilhelm Furtwängler, cond. Live performances, Feb. 8 & 10, 1943

Sibelius took the brooding instrospection of the Dvořák Concerto to even darker depths, again producing that much more welcome relief when it finally breaks out into a rondo, though hardly one of unalloyed cheer. Again, I'm still on the lookout for a more recent performance to add to these archival efforts, but it's intersting to hear these two great violinists responding to a piece that at the time wasn't that old.

The Heifetz-Beecham is a classic, and holds up just fine. (Of course there's a stereo Heifetz recording, conducted by Walter Hendl.) For all of Heifetz's inclination to streamline, it's not at the expense of the music's depth or emotional range. Still, Kulenkampff's rich (not to mention potentially explosive) tone makes for an interesting congtrast -- and he certainly has the right partner in Furtwängler. (Conducting Sibelius? That can't have happened often -- unfortunately.
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