Igor Levit in Bach, Beethoven ... and Frederic Rzewski

Igor Levit is on record as saying that variations have always been his favourite musical form, since he loves the constant changes of mood and scenarios. This love certainly shows in his latest CD comprising Bach's Goldberg variations with Beethoven's Diabelli – the two summits of the variation world. Levit seems to have complete empathy with the kaleidoscopic changes of mood in both sets of variations. I greatly admired his Bach partitas, and greatly admired his late Beethoven sonatas. I can now extend my admiration to the sets of variations here. Bach's Goldberg variations I know less well, but from the first few notes I knew that this was going to be my benchmark version from now on.

I know Beethoven's Diabelli variations backwards, forwards, sideways and inside out, having enjoyed an LP by Wilhelm Backhaus since my teenage years. Levit is up against stiff competition, but he comes in first, in my view. This is now my preferred version of these fascinating variations in which Beethoven seems to sum up the musical worlds of the 18^th, 19^th – and even 20^th – centuries.

I resent the fact that Sony has departed from its previous double CD packs for Levit to tack on a third CD for Bach and Beethoven – in a giant plastic shelf-filling box – comprising a set of variations by an American, Frederic Rzewski. Possibly Mr Rzewski's legions of admirers will resent having to pay for the two Bach and Beethoven CDs in addition to Mr Rzewski's work, and no doubt the legions of admirers who want the Bach and Beethoven variations played by Igor Levit will resent having to pay for a CD featuring Mr Rzewski's work; I know I do. Mr Rzewski's variations should have been issued on a separate CD, and this forced purchase is reminiscent of concerts where the unpopular contemporary medicine is sandwiched between two popular works, rendering late arrival or early departure somewhat difficult. Allegedly, Mr Rzewski's variations on “The people united will never be defeated” refers to the popular election of Salvador Allende in Chile in the 1970s in which case it's baffling, since the people's choice was murdered by an unholy alliance of the American CIA and a section of the Chilean army headed by the brutal Augusto Pinochet. The people united were defeated by a military junta, and years of bloodshed followed.

Having said all that, Rzewski's variations are worth playing and worth listening to. The theme is jaunty and memorable. Most of the variations are clever and interesting. Being “modern” there are various bangings and shouts (in C minor), reminiscent of elderly conductors during concert performances, and 36 variations are probably too many: 30 were good enough for Bach, and 33 for Beethoven, so it's not too clear why Rzewski needed 36. I would have cut around 10 of them. I meant just to sample the piece, but ended up listening to all of it. Like Count Hermann Carl von Keyserlingk with Bach's variations, I fell asleep towards the end of Rzewski's (but back-tracked and heard the end after a refreshing doze).

Christian Gerhaher singing Schubert Lieder

Once again, thank you Sony Classical (Germany). The CD of Schubert lieder sung by Christian Gerhaher with Gerold Huber is a benchmark as to how such things should be done. The texts of all 24 songs are given in German and English (tough on the French and the Italians, but space is limited). In addition, after each song we have an interesting analysis and commentary (German and English) so we can listen to each song with a little knowledge and, thanks to Gerhaher's excellent diction, we can follow the words. No space is taken up with multiple photos of the two musicians, nor do we have hyperbolic puffs about the artists or the music. This is a CD for serious lovers of German lieder and I enjoyed my evening basking in the gloom, traumas and occasional happiness of the 19^th century Romantics. Gerhaher has a fine voice, and the pianist is expert. As a final pat: the balance and recording are demonstration class. Well done everyone concerned, including Sony Classical.

More Bronislaw Gimpel

I often lament the number of recordings I possess, usually only listened to a couple of times. On occasions when I am overcome by an enthusiasm, however, it is good to have an extensive collection to fall back on. I have some 60 pieces of music recorded by the Polish violinist Bronislaw Gimpel and I have been diving into the archives. Some time ago I jettisoned the Bach unaccompanied sonatas and partitas recorded by Gimpel, since I really have too many recordings of these works, and it never seemed to me that Bach suited Gimpel's style of playing.

His recorded legacy features a roll call of minor conductors and orchestras, mainly German, often echoing the recording career of Aaron Rosand – Pro Musica Orchestra Stuttgart, Sudwestfunk Orchestra Baden-Baden, Hamburg Radio Orchestra, Radio Luxembourg Orchestra, Munich Philharmonic, West German Radio Symphony Orchestra, Warsaw Philharmonic, with conductors Arthur Grüber, Franz Paul Decker, Rolf Reinhardt, Curt Cremer, Hakan von Eichwald, Henri Pensis, Martin Walter, Fritz Rieger, Roberto Benzi, Johannes Schüler, Arnold Rezler …

The violin concertos of Tchaikovsky and Lalo (Symphonie Espagnole) seem to suit Gimpel down to the ground, and the grotesque Wilhelmj rewrite of the first movement of Paganini's first violin concerto shows what an immaculate technique Gimpel had. Glazunov's violin concerto suffers from an absurd balance in his recording of it with Hakan von Eichwald; if the violin volume is fine, the orchestra then fades into the middle distance. Brahms violin concerto provides proof of Gimpel's credentials in the Romantic repertoire, but it is Karl Goldmark's lovable concerto from Gimpel's heartland, Jewish Central Europe, that reveals the violinist at his finest. He obviously liked the concerto, since there are at least two recordings of it: a 1951 broadcast in December 1951 with the Luxembourg Radio Symphony Orchestra (never to be mistaken here for the Berlin Philharmonic), and a superior circa 1956 recording for Vox with Rolf Reinhardt in Baden-Baden with whom Gimpel also made studio recordings of the first Bruch concerto, plus the Dvorak and the Paganini-Wilhelmj. And, true to his roots, he also recorded much Wieniawski and Szymanowski, as well as Kreisler. His name has faded from the lists of available recordings but, hopefully, someone one day will resurrect the memory of this genial virtuoso of the 1940s, 50s and 60s. Born in 1911 in Lvov, he died in 1979 in Los Angeles on his return from a tour of South America, still playing, with a concert scheduled with his brother Jakob the week after his death.

Bronislaw Gimpel, and an Old Friend

In 1956, with money from my 15^th birthday, I bought Vox PL 9340, an LP containing Beethoven's violin concerto and two Romances played by Bronislaw Gimpel with the Bamberg Symphony Orchestra conducted by Heinrich Hollreiser. Being an impecunious teenager with few records in my collection, I played the LP almost to death (60 years later I still have it, in whatever the opposite of mint condition may be). The initial attraction of the Vox was the price and the fact that, unlike its competitors, you had the two Romances thrown in for free.

I noticed the recording on Presto Classical (download only). Out of nostalgia, I downloaded the Flac files. I must say, the mono recording of around 1954 now sounds a lot better than it did on my Pye Black Box with Monarch autochanger, and sapphire styli that I could not afford to change too often. In fact, the recording is pretty good, and the performance is a most engaging classical, relaxed performance with perfectly judged tempi. After 60 years, I still enjoy it very much indeed.

Bronislaw Gimpel was another of those unfortunates born at the wrong time and the wrong place. Hurriedly emigrating from Europe in 1937 to the USA, he headed back to Europe after the end of the war, then back to America, then back to Europe. The world was full of talented violinists and pianists and he and his pianist brother, Jakob, had a hard job making a name for themselves. Too much extraordinary talent around, and too few openings. Bronislaw did, however, manage to make a relatively large number of recordings (even of the Britten violin concerto) and they are good to have, if no longer easy to locate. He was a splendid violinist of the old school. Thanks to Cambria for this excellent transfer to digital.

Volker Reinhold Plays Sarasate: Volume 2

When it comes to great works in classical music, the German nations are pre-eminent. The Russians and the Slavonic nations, the Italians, and the French all have rich histories with many important works to their credit. Somehow, the Spanish and the Spanish-speaking nations rarely figure in major works or composers, with just a handful of names such as de Falla or Granados, as well as having few major orchestras or international soloists (not forgetting Casals, however). My favourite Spanish composer by far is Pablo de Sarasate, and I have written often in this blog concerning my love for his music. He wrote his music to play himself, of course, and he was a major virtuoso of the violin. Unlike Paganini or Ernst, however, his music is frequently virtuosic without driving violin technique to its very limits (and sometimes beyond). Sarasate's music reflects his elegant and sophisticated style of playing, and an hour spent listening to Sarasate's music is an hour well spent, so I usually seize upon any new recording of Sarasate's music that comes along; not much use dreaming about hearing his music live in a modern concert hall, alas. My latest seizure is the second volume in Volker Reinhold's traversal of all Sarasate's opera fantasies, a popular formula in the nineteenth century with ten minutes or so spent improvising on the themes from major operas of the time.

Once again, Herr Reinhold is a pleasure to listen to as he plays music he so evidently enjoys and he is well partnered by Ralph Zedler; one can also admire Sarasate's writing in the piano accompaniments which are far from the routine plunking chords so often found in salon musical accompaniments. I passed an enjoyable 77 minutes with Reinhold and Zedler. A cross-reference to Tianwa Yang was interesting, however. Her eight CDs of Sarasate's music also contain all the pieces on Herr Reinhold's two CDs of opera fantasies. In every piece I looked at, Reinhold was appreciably slower than Miss Yang; Tianwa is more mercurial, Reinhold more deliberate. The Chinese has a superb sense of rhythm and of rubato, and beside her and her pianist (Markus Hadulla) the Germans can sound a little four-square at times. And Tianwa's Vuillaume violin sounds better than Reinhold's in the higher registers (as recorded here). No matter with comparisons; Sarasate's evergreen music is always a pleasure to listen to and I will continue to seize every opportunity to hear it played by expert violinists with a sense of style.

Otto Klemperer, and Mozart

I've mentioned my musical “phases” before. At the moment I seem to have entered a new Mozart phase, and he is the composer whose music is played often chez moi. My favourite Mozart symphony is the 40^th in G minor, and Mozart symphonies on disc pose a bit of a problem for me: I don't like orchestral music in less than good sound (unless there are very special reasons). I don't like big-band Mozart, 19^th century style. I don't like “authentic” Mozart played by augmented “period” chamber groups conducted by faceless figures, and all this limits my choices somewhat. So I have fallen back happily on an eight CD box of Mozart's symphonies, overtures and serenades with Otto Klemperer conducting the Philharmonia, the box being part of EMI's swan song before it was taken over by the Americans.

As I've mentioned before, Klemperer is my kind of conductor, particularly in Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, Bruckner, Wagner and Mahler; and Mozart. He was keen on lean choirs and orchestras in 18^th century music even before they became fashionable. His predilection for forward woodwind suits Mozart's music down the ground, as does his insistence on clarity of texture, divided first and second violins, and overall musical structure. And, as always with Klemperer, there is an avoidance of personal interpretive interjections. I am happy with Klemperer's Mozart, and happy he left us so many first class recordings post the early 1950s. Especially good are the three CDs re-mastered in "Hybrid SACD" sound of the last six symphonies, another swan song from EMI.

I only saw him once in person conducting in London. A tall, gaunt somewhat forbidding figure, conducting while seated (at that late stage of his tempestuous career). But if ever there were a survivor, it was Otto Klemperer. Suffering all his life from bi-polar moods, his story and fate were like that of so many in Europe in the first half of the 20^th century. Born in 1885 in the German city of Breslau, his birth city was given permanently to the Poles after 1945. Building a highly successful career in Germany in the 1920s and early 1930s – with good help from Gustav Mahler – Klemperer as a Jew had to flee Germany in the mid- 1930s. He ended up in America, like many others at the same time, but there he had a difficult life given his uncompromising character (and difficult medical history, including a botched brain operation that left him partly paralysed thereafter). His American period ended with the US authorities refusing to renew his passport since, during the McCarthy era, he was regarded as being far too far left wing to be safe. Ironically, the Germans then came to the rescue and gave Otto a new German passport. Returning to Europe in the early 1950s, he found life hard until he was “discovered” by Walter Legge and given a whole new career as a star conductor and conductor of the Philharmonia orchestra of the time. “Remarkable, since Legge was not a German, nor even Jewish”, Klemperer remarked caustically. He died in Zürich in 1973 at the grand old age of 88, still conducting right until the end. Happily, for us, his recorded legacy is enormous and much of it is in perfectly acceptable sound since the EMI recording team of that era was top-notch. For me, the two greatest conductors of the 20^th century in the mainstream German repertoire were Wilhelm Furtwängler and Otto Klemperer. There is no one the equal of those two around at the moment.

Mozart's Gran Partita

Vienna in November 1947 was probably not the best of places to be. The city, with much still destroyed, was under post-war Russian military occupation and money, morale and comfort must have been low. Nevertheless, the indefatigable Walter Legge was there, with the superb balance engineer Douglas Larter and they met up with Wilhelm Furtwängler and the wind players of the Vienna Philharmonic to record Mozart's Gran Partita for 13 wind instruments, K 361. The result, to my ears, has always been one of the golden classics of recording. Mozart played in the style of old Vienna with much love and affection from players and from Furtwängler, whom they had requested to direct them. Expertly recorded back in 1947 and well transferred to CD by the highly talented Keith Hardwick, it remains one of the jewels of my collection of recordings. They don't play this music like that any more!

Schubert's Last Three Piano Sonatas

Today I listened to the last three piano sonatas of Franz Schubert; strange to think that they were relatively unknown and unplayed until the 20^th century. They would have fascinated composers such as Bach, Handel and Mozart because of their semi-familiar musical language, but with exotic departures and additions. I love their kaleidoscopic modulations of mood, of key, and of harmony; from one minute to the next, you never know what world you are going to be in.

The outburst of rage / frustration / despair during the andantino of the A major sonata never fails to astonish; what Schubert's friends and contemporaries made of it, I cannot imagine. And I love the frequent resigned sadness and ambiguities of the final B flat major sonata. It is incredible that the C minor, A major and B flat major sonatas were written in the same place and within a very few years of Beethoven's last string quartets; what a period of musical gold!

These sonatas are best listened to played by “simple” great pianists such as Sviatoslav Richter, Clara Haskil, Wilhelm Kempff, Leif Ove Andsnes or Maria Pires since there is little need or cause for showing off, bravura, or personal point-making. I listened to all three played by the superb Leif Ove Andsnes, recorded over the years 2001-4. A real classic recording that I always keep by me for when I feel like some sophisticated listening.

Musical Vignettes

I seem to go through listening phases. Some months ago, it was mainly big orchestral works by the likes of Shostakovich, Sibelius, Bruckner and Elgar. My current phase is for recitals of short works; maybe a result of the metabolism of my attention span. So I have delighted again in hearing the phenomenal Zlata Chochieva playing Chopin études – I, who have never been a keen Chopin fan. I am delighted again in making my way through Tianwa Yang's eight CDs of Sarasate works. And I recovered from my archives David Frühwirth's recital of 17 mainly unhackneyed vignettes for violin and piano.

It's sad there are not many Chochieva recordings around yet. I am completely captivated by her Chopin études and love her pianism. Just as astonishing is Tianwa Yang in Sarasate; I love Sarasate's music and marvel at how idiomatic Yang sounds in this Spanish music. Her sense of style, rhythm and rubato are really extraordinary; she could even have been Sarasate's favourite pupil, listening to her. And I do revel in Sarasate's music. I recall a puffed-up British critic a few years back screeching with outrage because a professional orchestral musician had told him that Sarasate's music was worth 20 or so of Boulez, or Nono, or Stockhausen (I forget which). Well, the professional musician was quite right, and Sarasate's music is eternal.

Finally, I sat back and listened to David Frühwirth playing pieces by Zimbalist, Kurt Weill, Hans Sitt, Hubay and many others. Frühwirth has an engaging warm, relaxed Austrian tone which at times reminds me of his fellow Austrian of long ago, Fritz Kreisler. And he has a gift for selecting enjoyable music that is not readily featured in compilations by others. My short pieces phase is still very much with me; fortunately I have many CDs of short pieces to fall back on – doubly fortunately, since they do not often turn up in concerts or recitals nowadays except as four minute encores.

Lisa Batiashvili

Three major violin concertos – by Beethoven, Brahms and Shostakovich's first – have no shortage of excellent contenders for three star status, in my hierarchy. Probably the only violinist to achieve three stars in all three concertos, is Lisa Batiashvili and I had a mini- Lisa festival yesterday, listening to the three concertos played by her.

Her strengths are well known: Nobility of tone and utterance; a sense of the long line, and an exceptional feeling for phrasing (viz Rachmaninov's Vocalise). She seems to have an uncanny ability to find the right tempo, for her and for the music. She has an excellent range of dynamics. She concentrates on the music, not on highlighting her playing. She has a complete mastery of her instrument (a Strad). And she is an intensely serious player; no Lang-Lang type antics. Finally, she has her pick of good collaborators: Hélène Grimaud, Alice Sara Ott, Khatia Buniatishvili, Stephen Osborne, Esa-Pekka Salonen, Christian Thielemann, Charles Dutoit, Sakari Oramo, Osmo Vänskä ...

Her first Shostakovich violin concerto is truly superb, getting right to the bones of this complex work. Her Beethoven (no conductor on her Sony release) is surprisingly good, despite the absence of a conductor, and the recording is excellent. She has speeded up in this work after a re-think, compared with past off-air recordings. In the Beethoven, she uses the Kreisler cadenza; in the Brahms concerto (with Christian Thielemann) she uses the Busoni cadenza, and her long line creates a superb effect in the adagio. The Brahms concerto is not quite as well recorded as are the Beethoven and Shostakovich concertos; the violin is a little too integrated within the orchestral sound.

To my taste, she is not so good in Bach, and I have the impression that her long line and nobility of tone are perhaps not really ideal for Bach's music. There seem to be a lot of things she does not play, and I cannot find any reference to her playing Kreisler, Wieniawski or Sarasate. It's a shame that she appears not to play the Elgar violin concerto, a work that would suit her well, I sense. Anyway, pretty well everything she does play, she plays superbly and I hope for many more recordings from her whilst she is in her prime.

Albert Hermann Dietrich, and Joseph Joachim

It is sometimes dispiriting to discover that, after over 60 years of listening to music, there is so much more to discover. The 17^th, 18^th, 19^th and first half of the 20^th centuries saw composers of all nationalities scribbling away at top speed, and most of the resulting music is unknown and unperformed; personally I have little interest in the kilos of music written after the deaths of Shostakovich or Britten (just as contemporary composers appear to have little interest in pleasing me).

Today, I was listening to the violin concerto of Albert Hermann Dietrich (who?), a close friend of Brahms, Schumann and Joseph Joachim. I then went on to listen to Joachim's Notturno for Violin & Orchestra, ending up with the more familiar Variations in E minor "In Ungarischer Weise" by Joachim. The excellent violinist in all three works was Hans Maile (who?) and the very good recording made in Berlin in 1983. OK; none of the three works bore the stamp of genius that one would have found in Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, etc. But all three works were expertly crafted and made highly enjoyable listening and a pleasant change from many over-familiar works. I have a lot of listening to catch up on.

Mozart, and the Germans

Finding a really good recording of any given Mozart violin concerto is surprisingly difficult. Technically, the concertos pose no problems to modern violinists (even I used to play them, long ago). But the violinist needs to capture the youth and elegance of Mozart's writing; the orchestra needs to participate with the soloist and exchange musical thoughts; the recording needs to balance soloist and orchestra satisfactorily; and both orchestra and soloist need to capture the spirit and elegance of the 18^th century (though preferably not try to emulate what might have been the exact sound world of the music of nearly 250 years ago).

Arthur Grumiaux has been the Mozart concerto best stand-by for nearly 50 years now and, of more recent recordings, I have enjoyed Arabella Steinbacher and Katrin Scholz. Latest arrival on my player is Frank Peter Zimmerman, with the chamber orchestra of the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Radoslaw Szulc. And very good it is, too, providing really all I want for modern performances of these concertos (Zimmerman plays the 1^st, 3^rd and 4^th on the new CD, with the rest scheduled to follow). Stylish violin playing. Excellent orchestral partnership. Good recording (Hänssler Classic) with expert balance. My kind of Mozart (and not an “original instrument” within sound or sight, thank heavens).

Somewhat coincidentally, I have recently had a minor deluge of fine violin and piano recordings, with Thomas Christian in Ernst, and Kirill Troussov and Alexandra Troussova in a recital of Russian short pieces (Dabringhaus und Grimm). Good music and playing and, commendably, excellent recorded sound with expert balance between piano and violin. All the recordings (including the new Zimmermann) come from Germany, and I sense that the German investment in Tonmeister training has really paid off. Scandinavia and the Czech lands also produce excellent modern recordings, but I sense that in too many other countries roving bands of all-purpose recording technicians are often tackling things too unrelated to their normal sound worlds of rock, pop and beat music. Classical music recording is different from recording electronically-amplified “stars” with “backing groups”. Well done the Germans. And maybe not entirely coincidental that my modern trio of fine Mozart concerto players – Zimmermann, Steinbacher and Scholz – are all Germans, resident in Germany.

Eugen Jochum in Bruckner

At the present time, there are four main pillars in my musical world: Bach, Handel, Schubert and Bruckner. This evening it was Bruckner's turn; the seventh symphony recorded in 1976 by Eugen Jochum conducting the Staatskapelle in Dresden. It is always dangerous to generalise as to who plays what, best. If you want Elgar, you have to have English players (what about Vasily Petrenko?) If you want Debussy, it needs to be French players. For Gershwin, you need Americans. For Rachmaninov, you have to have Russians. Etc. Generalisations are dangerous, and inaccurate more often than not. But I do wonder about Anton Bruckner. The great Bruckner interpreters all seem to be Germanic (starting with Furtwängler, the greatest Brucknerian of them all, in my opinion). And then, listening to the Dresden Staatskapelle, or the Berlin Philharmonic, or the Vienna Philharmonic, or the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra in Bruckner; can you really imagine any other of that interpretive standard, speaking with their native language, as it were?

Bruckner seems to need a conductor steeped in the Germanic tradition. Furtwängler. Schuricht. Knappertsbusch. Jochum. Wand. Klemperer. Böhm, Kabasta, plus a few outsiders such as Haitink or Horenstein. He needs an orchestra steeped in the old German sound world. He needs a good, rich recording (which, alas, mitigates against many great Bruckner recordings of the past, including those by Furtwängler). I am happy usually to fall back on my Eugen Jochum recordings with the Dresden orchestra, despite many, many alternatives on my shelves. Headphones on, volume up.

BIS, and Franz Liszt Again

Three stars to the Swedish record company, BIS, for my newest CD, an assortment of violin and piano music by Franz Liszt whose non-piano music seems to have been a recent discovery. With this BIS CD, we get an exemplary recording and, miraculously, a completely ideal balance between violin and piano; a rare event. As a surprising bonus, we are also offered some interesting liner notes by the violinist, Ulf Wallin and a booklet with a big picture of Liszt, a half page photo of the violinist and pianist Roland Pöntinen; companies such as DGG and Warner take note. We really do not need multiple pages of semi-clad artists.

Liszt's works for violin and piano are fascinating; the Lugubre Gondola that plays for over nine minutes really grips the attention. Both violinist and pianist give admirable performances. Bravo BIS – and let us not forget that BIS stayed with Masaaki Suzuki throughout his long and admirable decades-long odyssey of Bach's cantatas; a company that takes the long view, and care over repertoire, liner notes and recording.

Thomas Christian plays Ernst

The music of Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst is best known – when it is known at all – for his Erlkönig and Last Rose of Summer fantasies. Both these works have always appeared to me to be unwise in that they go slightly beyond the technical limits of what is advisable on a violin. On a whim, I bought a two-CD set of Ernst's music played by Thomas Christian, an Austrian violinist now in his mid-60s. Not an Earl-King or a Last Rose in sight; this is well over two and half hours of pleasant salon music played around half the time with a pianist, half the time with a small chamber group. The first CD also features a string quartet by Ernst – played a little unrelentingly, I feel; more contrast in dynamics would have helped. And in music like this, the violin is of primary interest and the sound needs to be 60/40 in favour of the violin. Here, it's more like 60/40 in favour of the piano, so that we hear every note the pianist plays, but cannot always easily hear the violin. Probably not the fault of the pianist (Evgeny Sinayskiy) but more likely of the CPO recording team. Or of my loudspeakers.

Christian plays with a honeyed,Viennese tone, with lots of charm. Wisely, perhaps given his age, the pieces selected here mainly avoid hyper-virtuoso passages, so we get well over two hours of music that fit beautifully into a summer evening's listening and can be safely offered to anyone's elderly mother-in-law. Sad that Ernst's music is not better known and is seldom played. Instead of yet another Ravel or Debussy sonata recording, we could do with more of Ernst's thoroughly enjoyable and tuneful salon music; the only piece on these two CDs that is played from time to time is the Fantaisie Brillante on a theme from Rossini's Otello.  It all sounds nice and, despite the CDs' title of “The Virtuoso Violin”, there is not much purely technical virtuosity needed in most of the pieces on these CDs.

Purcell's "When I am laid to Earth"

Henry Purcell's aria “when I am laid to earth” from Dido and Aeneas is, quite rightly, considered one of the greatest arias in all music. Almost everyone sings it (and I once transcribed it for violin and viola so I could play it myself). This evening I listened to it sung by Patricia Petibon, on a recital CD. It was intensely moving, since Petibon has a superb voice and is very much a singer-actor who communicates words and feelings from the heart. Terrific!

A minute criticism is that someone should teach the French how to pronounce “earth” (as in “When I am laid to earth”). It is not pronounced how it looks, and 98% of French get it wrong … somewhat understandably: who would think that “earth” should be pronounced “urth”?

Nightingales and Sopranos

Like Richard Strauss, I have an on-going love affair with the soprano voice (which perhaps fits with my love of the violin). Recently I put on a CD of songs sung by … a tenor! … and had to exit the disc after a few of the songs. For song and aria recitals, I favour Véronique Gens, Sandrine Piau, Carolyn Sampson, Julia Lezhneva, Diana Damrau, Simone Kermes, Joyce DiDonato, Patricia Petibon … and a few others. A good friend has just given me a CD of Carolyn Sampson singing a multilingual collection of songs (with piano) and it really is a major treat. I like Ms Sampson's voice, I like the fact I can hear the words she is singing, I like the fact that her French (especially) and German dictions are extremely acceptable, and I like her intelligence applied to what she is singing.

The other nightingale I acquired recently was the Russian Julia Lezhneva, with her first CD that featured Rossini operatic arias. Some have commented that, at 21 years old when this CD was recorded, she was just too young for some of this music, and I suspect that is true (I am no Rossini expert). Others have commented that her intonation goes astray on occasions; I am blessed with imperfect pitch, and a dozen false notes in an hour of singing or playing never particularly bother me; I find it acceptable to wince on a few occasions. What does matter to me is that I like Ms Lezhneva's voice, and the music she sings and can sit back and enjoy the programme. Just as I like Carolyn Sampson's voice. But, no, I am not a fan of Elisabeth Schwarzkopf; I don't just love every soprano who comes along.

Wieniawski, Vieuxtemps, Conus

Two CDs I keep close to hand both feature lesser known violinists in lesser known works. On one, the Korean violinist Soo-Hyun Park plays the first Wieniawski violin concerto, the Conus concerto, and Vieuxtemps' Fantasia Appassionata. On the second, Canadian violinist Corey Cerovsek plays Vieuxtemps' fifth concerto, Wieniawski's second, and Wieniawski's Faust Fantasia.

Hardly exotic and unknown repertoire – I have 23 versions of the Wieniawski Fantasia, and 17 of Vieuxtemps' fifth concerto, for example – but rare to have them assembled on two convenient CDs (Claves and Onyx), well played and well recorded. Mainline companies and mainstream violinists stick either to endless recordings of the twelve evergreen classics, or to scrapings of “new music” concertos, once played, forever forgotten. My two CDs of Wieniawski et al are well worn, and kept where I can pick them out easily whenever I feel like it – which is surprisingly often.