Taste is a complicated matter, as are opinions. I spend a lot of time denouncing "beautiful" violin sound. Then I listen to Christian Ferras playing Guillaume Lekeu's truly wonderful sonata for violin and piano ... and I wallow in Ferras's beautiful (and musical) playing. Next thing I know I'll be praising the music of Karl-Heinz Stockhausen. I must embark on a re-listening of Ferras, a violinist who has faded from popular view (except in France) but a violinist who, until he went downhill, could be numbered amongst the most significant and most enjoyable of the last century. Difficult to think of a bad Ferras recording (though I seem to remember not liking his recording of Chausson's Poème, a work in which I would have expected him to excel, but I think he only recorded it just once, in 1953, early in his career, and with a Belgian orchestra).

I took delivery of my very first organ CD! In my youth, I bought a very small number of organ LPs, but they did not last long. My antipathy towards the organ centred upon a) its prominent place in churches and the Christian religion and b) the unholy racket it could often unleash upon the unsuspecting listener.

A re-think was occasioned by the 30 minute organ recital I heard in Halle a couple of weeks ago (on "Handel"'s organ, see a previous entry). Suddenly the organ became a cousin of the wind choir, and not necessarily an instrument for accompanying lugubrious hymns or chorales. So this weekend on the turntable went Klemens Schnorr playing the Simnacher-Kubak organ in the Jesuit Church of Mindelheim (Augsburg region). Short pieces by a meriad of unknown (to me) composers: Buxtehude, Scheidt, Bruhns, Kerll, Kobrich, CPE Bach, Corrette, Balbastre, Vierne, Grison and Knecht. The only piece where I had to press the "next piece" button was Jules Grison's Toccata in F major, which reminded me of a young man in a car with dual, modified exhaust pipes playing loud rap music with all the windows down. But most of the music was delightful, viz Claude Balbastre's Noëls: Au jô deu de pubelle, Grand déi, ribon ribeine [if any reader dead or alive can translate this, please do and let me know]. I shall buy more baroque organ recordings. With care.

The listening period was greatly enhanced also by Clara Haskil, a "cult" recording artist with whom I have only had a nodding acquaintance for the past fifty years. But her Audite recordings of Mozart concertos (19 and 20 -- the latter in two versions) plus Beethoven 4th concerto, had me entranced by the sheer effective simplicity and purity of her playing. She even (nearly) won me over to Schumann in the fill-ups -- Schumann's Bunte Blätter Op 90, plus the Abegg-Variationen Op 1. But I could have done without the Abeggs.

My birthday. 68 today. 120 months left? Anyway, a thoroughly gastronomic day, with lunch at Quayle's (grilled garlic prawns and a glass of rosé) and dinner at home (fresh crab, very good ribeye steak from Jessye Smith, cheeses and apricots from Quayle's). Plus a bottle of red wine.

Stars of the evening? The wine (a 1998 from Margaux: Château Desmirail). And the Lincolnshire "poacher" cheese. Plus, of course, the final Nespresso. I think in my next life Ill live in a humble house, buy one CD a year, and spend my money on buying great wines early. I can't remember where the 1998 Margaux came from, but I think it was a present in Nîmes during the period 2001-3. It was quite superb and constituted the ideal birthday wine.

After dinner music was provided by Herr Artur Schnabel playing two more Beethoven sonatas. The Beethoven piano sonatas are welcome new food; all my life I have had a fleeting acquaintance with them all, but in only three cases -- Moonlight, Appassionata and Op 111 -- are they over-familiar.

Wednesday, so it was two very welcome crabs from the fishman in the Tetbury market. Especially succulent today. Plus the arrival of a mammoth box of 8 CDs played by Artur Schnabel. After eating one of the crabs, I especially enjoyed Schnabel in two Beethoven piano sonatas. The sound is very 1930s, but that really does not matter since it is so refreshing to hear playing that is so relentlessly focused on the music, not on beauty of tone, clever rubato -- or liner note photos of the artist in provocative poses. After 75 years, Schnabel in Beethoven still sounds so right. Of how many artists recording now will we be able to say that in 2084? I probably won't be around to see.

After over fifty years of listening, it is now very rarely that I enjoy a performance of Beethoven's violin concerto; the piece is just too familiar ever since my days at Pagham and the Vox LP of Bronislaw Gimpel with Heinrich Hollreiser (I still have the battered old LP). Thus my surprise this evening in re-listening to Julia Fischer in the piece, with David Zinman and the BBC Symphony Orchestra recorded off-air in May 2007. Those who like Nathan Milstein will like Julia Fischer; there is a no-nonsense approach to the work, with swift tempi, and the violin playing is quite superb. An unexpected pleasure. I must not forget this recording.

I came back to it by accident, having pulled out the CD to check Lola Bobescu playing the Vieuxtemps fifth violin concerto (with Karl Böhm in 1963). Again, the Bobescu performance proved to be totally superb, even though this really is Heifetz's concerto. However, Lola yields little to Jascha in an exhilarating performance. This remarkable compilation CD is completed by a classic performance of Dvorak's Four Romantic Pieces Op. 75 played by Ivan Zenaty and Anton Kubalek; a most enjoyable performance of one of the few works of Dvorak I can listen to over and over again. The performance by Zenaty almost makes me forget the favourite recording by Akiko Suwanai. All together, a CD to treasure (HC 266).

Some thoroughly bad performances find their way to commercial recordings; but not many. A few really classic performances are recorded; but not many. The majority of recordings -- say the 600 or so recordings of the Sibelius violin concerto that possibly exist somewhere -- fall somewhere in between and much ink -- liquid as well as electronic -- is spent trying to decide and describe which one is "better" than the other one and thus comes 150th in the list rather than 151st.

Recording quality is another factor and, when many instruments are involved, recorded balance starts to become significant, at least for me. When it comes to performances of the "classical" 19th century Austro-German repertoire, I find myself inclining more and more to "old" German performers such as Furtwängler, Klemperer, Kulenkampff, Busch, Schnabel, Fischer, et al The works of Beethoven, Scbubert, Brahms, Schumann, Wagner and Bruckner often seem right in their hands. "Right" here means simple, inevitable, tempo giusto, how one would wish to play it oneself.

Reflections prompted by listening this evening to Hans Hotter and Michael Raucheisen in Schubert's Winterreise, recorded in 1942, and Edwin Fischer in the Schubert impromptus recorded in 1938. There is a familiarity and inevitability about these classic performances that removes them from all thoughts of competition.

Excellent lunchtime concert today in the Marienkirche in Halle on the Reichelorgel (on which Handel learned to play the organ). At the other end of the church is the big organ that J.S. Bach inspected in 1716. Handel was baptised in the Marienkirche, and W.F. Bach later became organist there, so it is an interesting place. The 30 minute recital included short pieces by Johann Kaspar Kerll, Pachelbel, Telemann, Gaetano Valeri and Samuel Scheidt, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. Maybe I'll take to the organ yet! But one needs a big, big room in which to listen to an organ.

The Hallesches Brauhaus serves good food and its own truly wonderful beer. A diet of beer and dumplings is going to do wonders for my figure.

Bartok and Menuhin

The firm posthumous reputations of Joseph Haydn and Bela Bartok have always been something of a mystery to me. It is almost exactly 50 years since I carried home in triumph an LP of Yehudi Menuhin playing Bartok's first violin & piano sonata together with the solo sonata (a 1957 recording with Hepzipah). Now 50 years on and after multiple listenings of multiple performances by multiple violinists and I realise this is a work that is never ever going to appeal to me.

This evening I listened to the violin & piano sonata played by Menuhin (1947) with Adolph Baller. The New York recordings were excellent with a true balance. The Naxos transfers are demonstration class. Menuhin after 1936 could be a variable violinist (to say the least) but in this recording he is at his astonishing best and it is difficult to imagine a better performance of this piece and I greatly enjoyed the violin playing. But I still don't like the music and know I now never will.

Georgy Catoire is a little-known Russian composer, and I made his acquaintance via Carlos who kindly sent me some of his works, including the violin & piano sonatas played by David Oistrakh and Alexander Goldenweiser (1948 and 52). Catoire sounds like Wagner mixed with Fauré and César Franck. Unfortunately the Oistrakh / Goldenweiser CD was a wash-out; the balance was 65% violin and 35% piano (as so often in those days with recordings from Russia or America). But, even worse, it had been "processed" by the DoReMi team purifiers and poor old Oistrakh's Strad in its lower registers sounds like an alto saxophone. DoReMi gets hold of some really interesting and rare material -- then promptly usually proceeds to ruin it by over-filtering. This is far from the first time I have cursed with disappointment.

So I bought a CD of the "complete" violin & piano works of Catoire, since I like his music and the very-late Romantics are one of my favourite follies. The new CD, much better balanced and recorded than poor old Goldenweiser, features Herwig Zack (violin) and Bernd Zack (piano). Presumably, two brothers. I like the Zacks in this music, and I welcome the recording with its lifelike sound and equal balance between piano and violin. The filler is a couple of pieces by Ravel, and they fit a Catoire evening just fine. A good CD.

It is always exhilarating to listen to Michael Rabin's violin playing. There is a verve, complete technical mastery and enthusiastic identity with the music being played when Michael wields the bow. The new Audite transfers of Bruch's G minor violin concerto plus bits by Sarasate, Wieniawski, etc from 1969 are very well played. The CD also contains a Saint-Saëns Havanaise from 1962 --perhaps the ill-fated Berlin tour where Rabin was booed by a disappointed audience. All the recordings come from RIAS in Berlin.

Disappointingly, the transfer of the violin sound is over-bright (except in the 1962 Havanaise). Someone ought to leave all these transfers to Mark Obert-Thorn.

The twentieth century -- particularly the first half -- saw many important and interesting composers of music. In several decades time, when all begins to fall into perspective, I suspect that the major figure of the century will prove to be Dimitri Shostakovich. For a start, his music is completely distinctive and can never be confused for one moment with the music of Bartok, Prokofiev, Rachmaninov, Sibelius, Britten ... or anyone else. This evening I listened with very great enjoyment to Shostakovich's G minor piano quintet, played (extremely well) by the "Amsterdam Chamber Music Society" in an excellent 6-CD box I picked up very cheaply. Fine music, beautifully played.
A task for the next few years is to get to know and digest the 15 string quartets of Shostakovich, and the complete major operas of Wagner. A major challenge.

Fame, and who becomes famous, has always been fickle. In the violin world, distinctive giants such as Kreisler, Heifetz, Oistrakh, Elman and Milstein have usually achieved prominence. But so many good, and even great, players have languished unseen and unheard of. And it is no different today. In what may be labelled "The battle of the PR men" very good violinists such as Joshua Bell, Chloe Hanslip or Nikolaj Znaider achieve popular renown. While truly first class violinists such as Liza Ferschtman remain relatively unknown. I listened to Ms Ferschtman yesterday evening with great pleasure in Stravinsky, Franck, Tchaikovsky and Shostakovich pieces. Her playing had everything I wanted and I could not imagine better performances of each piece (and her piano partner, Bas Verheijden, was also excellent).

Ms Ferschtman obviously does not have the same weight of PR man as her superb compatriot, Janine Jansen. Which is her loss, but also ours since, in my opinion, she is a far more interesting and musicianly violinist than Bell, Hanslip or Znaider.

A critic a couple of years ago wrote an anguished piece on the subject of "musicians do not always know much about music". The critic had talked to a professional violinist, who had avowed that the music of Pablo Martín Melitón de Sarasate y Navascuéz was a lot more interesting than that of Luciano Berio (an avant-garde Italian composer). The critic squawked with outrage. But the violinist was right; for over a hundred years violinists have loved playing the music of Sarasate, and audiences have loved listening to his tuneful and interesting salon pieces.

Anyone tackling the Sarasate pieces comes up against strong competition and immediately invokes comparisons. In Zapateado, there are two extraordinary 17 year olds: Jascha Heifetz and Josef Hassid. In Playera there is the haunting sound of Hassid, a performance never equalled, in my opinion. In the Romanza Andaluza there are numerous recordings by Leonid Kogan with whom the piece was something of a speciality. And looming behind them all are the recordings of Sarasate himself in 1903 at the age of 60, performances that are straightforward, elegant, poised and in perfect taste.

In a 1989 recording, Mark Kaplan does well in fourteen Sarasate pieces. "Doing well" in such a context means that the listener is still enjoying every piece once the 66 minutes of playing are finished; it is not easy to hold attention over fourteen salon pieces one after the other unless you have a variety of sound, colour and bow strokes. Mr Kaplan does not rival Heifetz, Hassid or Kogan. In Playera, for example, you miss Hassid's superb bow articulation, and in Zapateado Hassid's incredible rhythmic control. But Kaplan does well, and I'll add it to my Sarasate collection with pleasure.

To my mind, the "greatest" of all the violin concertos is the A minor Op 77 by Shostakovich. I have 37 different version of it (with one more on order, lost somewhere). The competition is very fierce, with Oistrakh, Kogan, Vengerov, Repin et al putting forth their best. But I persist in finding the January 2006 concert version (Warner Classics) by Leila Josefowicz and the Birmingham Symphony Orchestra under Sakari Orama as being head and shoulders above the competition. Josefowicz identifies body and soul with the changing moods of this piece of music, and her violin playing is suitably abandoned and ecstatic. The recording and balance are excellent. Rare in any much recorded classic I would claim a "best" version. But this is it. There is also a very fine live Promenade Concert version by the same performers (July 2006, off-air). But there is something very special about the January 2006 version. A shame about the other 36!

Appearing in the same year (1947) but a very different kettle of fish, is the violin concerto by Korngold. As different from the Shostakovich as Los Angeles is from Moscow. I have always had a soft spot for this melodic, nostalgic concerto, however. The new Naxos version by Philippe Quint is truly excellent and is probably my favourite of the eleven versions I have -- and that includes two by Heifetz! Out-doing Jascha is quite a feat, but Quint does it (partly, of course, because of a much better recording and integration with the orchestra). Anyway, Shostakovich Op 77 and Korngold Op 35 made a good evening that started with an excellent Jambon de Bayonne, fresh crab, and Pont L'Evèque and Camembert cheeses, finishing with a good espresso coffee from Nespresso. Wine from Saint-Emilion (2004).

Poor old Max Bruch. His first violin concerto was extremely good. His Scottish Fantasy is not bad at all. But the rest is pretty second rate. I cannot understand why I bought the new Naxos CD of his second and third violin concertos. Despite good playing by Maxim Fedotov, the two later concertos are, quite frankly, thoughly boring. The CD is filed on the shelf and may well never leave it during my lifetime.

I have a large collection of "gypsy" music - which covers much of the folk music of Central Europe. Some renditions are excellent, some good, many indifferent. One of the very best is the CD of a concert by Pavel Sporcl and the group Romano Stilo. Sporcl and the boys never stray into jazz music -- a frequent problem with folk groups. Nor do they dabble with pop music. Sporcl is a phenomenal violinist who has the gypsy idiom at his finger tips, together with the true commanding stature of a real primas. An excellent round up of gypsy-type music from Central Europe played with panache and a true sense of style. A CD I keep near my player. Many thanks, Supraphon.

Even Mike the postman is beginning to think I have too many CDs. But, just occasionally, owning a big collection pays off. This weekend I had a sudden whim to listen to Mozart's string quintets. And I just happen to have a complete set of them played by the "Grumiaux Trio". I originally had these recordings dating from 1973 on LP, later updated to CD. What incredible music, and what ideal performances and recordings! I have loved the G minor quintet K 516 ever since I bought a Pye-Nixa LP of a 1951 recording by the Amadeus Quartet over half a century ago (I still have the LP).
Arthur Grumiaux is not a violinist who had popular fame in the same way as Heifetz, Menuhin, Oistrakh, Stern or Perlman. But he was a supreme self-effacing violinist of the Franco-Belgian school who did not tour much but who made many, many recordings for Philips (thank goodness). In any recording collection, Grumiaux's performances of Bach, Mozart, Beethoven and the French composers such as Ravel, Franck, Debussy et al are absolutely de rigueur. His playing was always flawless, his taste impeccable, his bowing and tone infinitely subtle. Maybe not a first choice for Tchaikovsky, Bruch or Shostakovich; but often first choice for almost everything else in the violin repertoire. In particular he, often in partnership with Clara Haskil, had a true empathy for the music of Mozart.
I rounded off my rare Mozart weekend with a most enjoyable performance of the K 563 divertimento for string trio very well played by Augustin Dumay, Gérard Caussée and Gary Hoffman (1990). Dumay seems to have vanished, but he was an excellent violinist in the right kind of music.

For many years I have had a soft spot for Erich Wolfgang Korngold; probably the only 20th century Viennese composer who will remain in popular affections over the next century. The new Naxos CD of his music features Philippe Quint in the violin concerto, and an extremely fine performance it is, too. Quint is not a well-known name; but in the Korngold violin concerto he is really in his element. The -- somewhat surprisingly good -- orchestral partner is the Orquesta Sinfonica de Mineria conducted by one Carlos Miguel Prieto. A long way from Vienna, but it all comes over well. This is my eleventh version of this concerto, and it is one of the very finest.