The earliest recordings
I possess are from the year 1900 (Arnold Rosé, and Pauline Viardot).
As someone who spent much of his youth – including three years at
Oxford – studying history, I am extremely interested in how things
used to be, and how we have arrived at here, from there. Very
interested to hear how a Mozart violin concerto was played in 1916 –
or 1776. However, for music listening in 2016, give me 2016 sound and
playing any day, all things being equal. In my earlier years, there
was a battle of ownership between harpsichordists and pianists for
keyboard music prior to the later years of the eighteenth century.
The battle then switched to the mediocre “fortepiano”.
Fortunately, the grand piano seems to have won the battle, and we can
all sit back and enjoy Yevgeny Sudbin playing Scarlatti
sonatas, or Igor Levin playing the Beethoven Diabelli
variations, or Bach Goldberg variations – on a grand piano, albeit
with a knowledge of the style and limitations of the earlier
eighteenth century.
A similar battle
occurred with boy trebles and male altos in the music of Bach, Handel
and the like. Non-vibrato white tone was the order of the day in the
1970s and 80s if you wished to be politically correct. Happily, the
boy trebles and male altos appear to have ceded the field, or at
least agreed to share it. A sense of style and history is important,
but it should not be carried to extremes. At the premier of
Beethoven's violin concerto, the soloist is reputed to have played an
improvisation of his own between the first and second movements;
should we emulate that tradition? Nigel Kennedy probably would.
An appreciation of the
age in which a piece of music was written – and why – is
important. We know that 17th and 18th century
orchestras would (usually) be small – even though Mozart exclaimed
in delight at an orchestra with 60 violins playing one of his
symphonies. He is lucky a current musicologist was not around at the
time to admonish him. Music does not often transcend the medium for
which it is written; string quartets do not translate happily into
music for a string orchestra, although an exception might be made for
Beethoven's Grosse Fuge that really strains – and perhaps at
times over-strains – the string quartet medium. The recording by
Otto Klemperer with the strings of the Philharmonia –
presumably the Felix Weingartner transcription – is pretty
convincing. Wilhelm Furtwängler and Adolf Busch also both recorded
string orchestra versions.
A battle yet to be won
is that of the anaemic sound produced by “period instrument”
players, hailed to be a glorious return to what the composer may have
envisaged prior to the later decades of the nineteenth century.
Granted, this olde style gives valued employment to string players
who would be all at sea trying to navigate Stravinsky's Rite of
Spring in a major orchestra. But it does no favour to the more
sophisticated and demanding ears of 2016. And as for “gut strings”,
lauded as the new Holy Grail of olde musike; I started my violin
playing with gut strings and they quickly went out of tune, or broke.
Jascha Heifetz always used gut strings (except for the “E”
string, which was always the first to break, in my day). I suspect
that Fritz Kreisler also used gut strings – spun metal was in its
infancy, in those days. I suspect most modern critics cannot tell
what string fabrication anyone is using; I certainly cannot. Yet they
continue to pontificate about “gut strings” as if their use makes
a considerable audio difference.
All this as a
long-winded introduction to my pleasure in listening to Frank
Peter Zimmermann playing Mozart violin concertos (numbers 2 and
5, plus the Sinfonia Concertante) with the Chamber Orchestra of the
Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra. A nice light touch from both
orchestra and soloist, without any fake 18th century
sounds that so plagued recent violin recordings by the marvellous
Vilde Frang (Mozart) and equally marvellous Alina Ibragimova (Bach),
where both recordings were spoilt for me by the ham-fisted
accompaniment of Jonathan Cohen and a motley group that calls
itself Arcangelo. Gurr! Zimmermann, Radoslaw Szulc and the Bavarians
show how Mozart can sound appropriately fine in 2016 without
resorting to stylistic gimmicks, tambourines, arch-lutes or sack-butts.
The sound on this second CD from Hänssler is light, airy and never
heavy and romantic, and Zimmermann's set of the Mozart concertos can
take its place beside the Grumiaux set from the 1960s. In the
Sinfonia Concertante, by which time Mozart was appreciably more
mature in his instrumental writing, Zimmermann and Antoine
Tamestit are perfectly matched and perfectly balanced and we are
given a more-or-less ideal performance of this masterpiece. It is
good to know that in this gimmick-crazed 21st century
where everything has to be “new”, that a few good, solid classic
values are still in evidence in musical performances. Tempos in eight
of the nine movements on this CD are fine, with me, but I take
exception to the second movement of K 219, marked adagio. This simply sounds wrong, to
me, dispatched at this speed.
And that is all from me
for a time, while I go off to France in search of seafood and the
local cuisine of Provence.
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