Vikingur Olafsson, and Johann Sebastian Bach

Right from my pre-teen years, I learned to revere the music of Johann Sebastian Bach, and to regard him as Number One in the league of composers. Over the past 70 years or so, heroes and heroines have come and gone; but Bach is still there in pole position. In an interesting sleeve note to a recent CD, the Icelandic pianist Vikingur Olafsson recounts his exposure to Bach's keyboard music via Edwin Fischer, Rosalyn Tureck, Dinu Lipatti, Glenn Gould, and Martha Argerich, pointing out that there are many valid ways of playing Bach's music. Within reason, anything works with Bach and the music comes through fresh and invigorating.

Olafsson's CD is somewhat unusual in consisting of a couple of dozen short works -- mainly preludes, fugues and inventions. Some of the pieces last for less than two minutes. The longest work is the Aria Varieta BWV 989. The whole hour or so gives a kaleidoscopic view of Bach's genius and endless powers of invention and I found it extremely impressive. Olafsson has a magnificent technique and this is used with gusto in many of the whirlwind pieces on the CD. This is music, and playing, I shall return to frequently. Olafsson is releasing a new CD featuring the keyboard music of Couperin and Debussy; an interesting juxtaposition. I'll buy it when it comes out since he seems to be an excellent and thoughtful musician as well as a superb pianist.

Beethoven's Sonatas for Violin and Piano

It turns out that I have no less than twelve sets of the complete sonatas for violin & piano by Beethoven. The ten sonatas do not feature among the very greatest of Beethoven's oeuvre, but they are by no means negligible and all deserve a regular hearing. The twelve violinists in my complete sets include Kreisler, Grumiaux, Capuçon, Dumay, Ibragimova, Suk, Barati, and Kavakos. I've never included Heifetz in my collection of the complete sonatas since the works rely mainly 60% on the pianist, and 40% on the violinist, much like most of the violin and piano sonatas of Mozart. Heifetz always preferred accompanists, never equal partners, let alone a dominant partner. Although recordings usually feature star violinists, they rarely feature star pianists. The classic Fritz Kreisler set from 1935 was originally intended to feature Rachmaninov as Kreisler's partner, but apparently EMI chickened out over the expense of two stars, and the highly competent Franz Rupp was engaged instead. That set is still well worth hearing. Arthur Grumiaux in 1956 was fortunate in having Clara Haskil as the pianist, and 64 years later this set is probably still the best all-round recommendation.

To listen to the sonatas again, I took down the recent (2009) set from Renaud Capuçon and Frank Braley. There is a lot to be said for it. Violin and piano are well balanced, and Braley proves to be an excellent partner in the all-important piano part. There is a transparency and delicacy about the playing that makes a welcome change from the often-heard Sturm und Drang. Capuçon and Braley are not really “star” names internationally, but these sonatas do not need stars so much as first-class instrumentalists who love the music and identify with Beethoven's musical language. Capuçon does not try to hog the limelight and gives way to Braley whenever necessary. I don't really need twelve sets. But I do need Kreisler, Grumiaux, Kavakos .... and Capuçon / Braley.

Ginette Neveu

Ginette Neveu was born in Paris in 1919 and was one of the 20^th century's very greatest violinists. She had a most unfortunate career. In 1935 she won fame and the Wieniawski Competition at the age of 15. Four years later, she was marooned in Paris by the second world war until 1945. Her career re-started in 1946; in October 1949 she died in a plane crash, aged just 30. Her playing is marked by a passionate conviction; she is one of the few 20^th century's great violinists whose voice can be recognised immediately.

She made few commercial recordings but, even given the turbulent and unfriendly times in which she lived, quite a few off-air and radio station recordings preserve her playing. I treasure her in Brahms – the violin concerto, and the third violin & piano sonata. Her 1949 off-air recording of the Beethoven violin concerto is one of the greatest. We can admire her playing in Suk, in Debussy, in Chausson, in Strauss, and in Ravel. Her recording in 1945 (already) of the Sibelius violin concerto remains essential listening for lovers of fine violin playing. Ever since my teenage years, I have been deeply moved by her recording of a C sharp minor nocturne by Chopin (arranged by Rodionov); the music just sweeps forward in beautifully phrased arches. The passion and conviction in her playing made her a natural for the Romantics; there is no record of her playing the music of Bach, Vivaldi or Mozart. The recordings that we have, are eternal classics. Busy weeding out my over-weight CD collection, Ginette Neveu will never be in the discard bag.

Oysters

Over the past forty years I must have eaten well over one thousand oysters, either with French friends at their homes, or in restaurants. But until yesterday I had never bought an oyster and carried it home to eat. I had an oyster-opening set (Laguiole) that I bought optimistically many years ago, but never an oyster. One of my local supermarkets  -- Morrison's --  introduced an Anglo-Irish oyster special offer (oysters are still pretty rare in English supermarkets). I bought a dozen and carried them home in triumph. They have now been opened and eaten. Delicious. No stopping me now (as long as I can find the oysters for sale).

Jiyoon Lee plays Ravel's Tzigane

Maurice Ravel's gypsy pastiche Tzigane was written in 1924 for the Hungarian violinist Jelly d'Aranyi (great niece of Joseph Joachim). I have 87 recordings of the piece and I no longer look forward to listening to it. It's a piece of music entirely at the mercy of the violinist. So this evening I was surprised, and delighted, to find myself enjoying it immensely as played on a new CD by the young Korean violinist Jiyoon Lee. Lee brings variety and intelligence to the music (as well as an impeccable technique) and I sat back and enjoyed every note. When it comes to admirable young violinists, the world today is completely swamped and I am forever thankful that I am not an aspiring young violin virtuoso.

George Enescu, Violinist

I re-listened to the few recordings that exist of the playing of George Enescu in his prime; the recordings date from 1929. He was born in 1881 (and died in 1955) so he was 48 years old when these recordings were made. There are later recordings from around 1950, but they were made in Enescu's old age when he was crippled with arthritis and badly in need of money. He thus belongs to the era of Sarasate, Ysaÿe, and Kreisler rather than to the great 20^th century violinists. Listening to Enescu is listening to violin playing of a by-gone age.

On an Opus Kura CD he plays Chausson's Poème (with piano), Corelli's La Folia, a Largo from a Pugnani sonata, Handel's Op 1 No.13 sonata, plus a 1950 recording of his third violin & piano sonata (private recording). A few Kreisler bits and pieces were also available on the defunct Biddulph label; Opus Kura just gives us Kreisler's Tempo di Menuetto. The Chausson is played as it should be; the Corelli is an object lesson in bowing technique; the Pugnani shows just how a Largo movement should be played. Throughout one marvels at Enescu's miraculous bowing technique, and at his crisp, fast trills. They don't play trills that good nowadays. One can only regret that Enescu was not too interested in recording, and that he was born a little too early to take full advantage of the recording medium. He could have recorded many pieces from 1926 to 1939; but he didn't. And the recording companies preferred his pupils such as Menuhin and Neveu. Our loss, but at least an hour or so of Enescu in his prime survives.

Ning Feng plays Bach

Back home from Asia, with the wind howling and the rain pouring, it is a good occasion to sit back and listen to old favourites. This evening it was Ning Feng (who better?) playing unaccompanied Bach. The music is wonderful, as is Ning Feng's playing. Technically he is immaculate, of course, but he also varies his bowing and dynamics to hold the interest and vary the sound. The chaconne of the second partita as presented here is a rare treat for lovers of Johann Sebastian Bach, chaconnes, and superb violin playing.

Ning Feng is now 38 years old and, presumably, at the height of his career. Formidable violinists proliferate at the moment; interesting violinists are rarer, and Mr Feng's violin playing is both subtle and interesting. I greatly enjoyed his Bach playing this evening, for the music, for the playing, and for the absence of “cult of personality” in the violin playing. Modern Bach at its best.

Mozart, Clara Haskil, and Asian Food

No quiet music listening recently, since life was occupied by a two-week trip to Asia: Luang Prabang, and Kuala Lumpur. On my return, I immediately turned to Mozart played by Clara Haskil; the two-piano concerto (with Geza Anda), the K 491 concerto, and the K 330 sonata. There is something about Mozart and Clara Haskil that is always completely and utterly satisfying. I have come to Mozart big time in my later life, and find his music eternally moving.

Also completely and utterly satisfying was the food in Laos and Kuala Lumpur. Asian food suits me down to the ground, especially the Chinese food (mainly shellfish, and fresh mangos) that I had in Kuala Lumpur with a good friend (who also gave me the Mozart-Haskil CD). If I could spend my life sitting beside the Mekong, eating Chinese food and listening to Clara Haskil playing Mozart, with a glass of whisky, I would be eternally and supremely happy.

Schubert's String Quintet D.956

1827 and 1828 were extraordinary years in Europe, and especially in Vienna. Beethoven died in 1827, leaving behind his last string quartets. Schubert died in 1828, leaving behind the recently finished song cycle die Winterreise D.911, the B flat piano sonata D.960, and the string quintet D.956. There are few more personal works in the whole of music, than these. Maybe Tchaikovsky's Pathétique symphony falls into the same highly personal category. Beethoven died at the age of 57, Schubert at the age of 32. If either had lived an extra 20 years, what would he have composed?

Schubert was born just one year before Mozart died; he died just one year after Beethoven's death. His music is eternal and will last for ever. If ever a piece of music speaks of what the Germans term, after Wagner's die Walküre: Todesverkündung (announcement of death), it is Schubert's string quintet, its two cellos giving added gravitas and a sombre ambiance. Listening to this, or to Beethoven's C sharp minor Op 131 or B flat string quartets Op 130 (with the Große Fuge for the latter) a Martian might conclude that Western music never again achieved such peaks and that the 100 years 1728-1828 with Bach, Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven and Schubert saw music's high tide. Martians often have a point.

I listened to Schubert's string quintet recorded during the 1960s by an ensemble led by Arthur Grumiaux (who else, in Schubert's music?) It has become a bit of a cliché that so many people have nominated this quintet as “music to die to” (especially the second movement that alternates resignation with frustrated anger). Schubert knew he was going to die soon, but he also knew that even greater music resided within him; what it was, we can only guess, alas for us. Grumiaux's name is almost a guarantee of success, in Schubert, at any rate. I grew up with the recording by Casals, Tortelier, Stern, Schneider and Katims; an all-star event, but a long way from Vienna in 1828. Many people have recorded the work, including the Hollywood Quartet, and a group led by Jascha Heifetz. But if you want Schubert, the whole Schubert and nothing but Schubert: Grumiaux's ensemble is high among best bets, right down to that final ominous chord at the end of the work that Schubert never heard before he died.

Rachmaninov's Danse Hongroise Op 6 No.2

As someone who enjoys violin playing, I have built up over the decades a considerable collection of recordings of short salon pieces. 39 different recordings of Tchaikovsky's Mélodie. 42 recordings of Kreisler's Liebesfreud: 16 recordings of Elgar's Salut d'Amour. Even 24 recordings of William Kroll's meretricious Banjo & Fiddle, a piece I heartily dislike. But in all my collection, I only have four – FOUR – recordings of Sergei Rachmaninov's Danse Hongroise (Op 6 No.2 of his Morceaux de Salon.) How on earth is this piece almost always overlooked in collections of short violin pieces? It is attractive music, lasting just under four minutes. The only four violinists in my collection to have recorded it are Akiko Suwanai, David Frühwirth, Sacha Sitkovetsky, and Ruggiero Ricci. Really odd how some pieces of music are so often overlooked. If I were several decades younger, I'd go out and buy the music and play it myself.

Akiko Suwanai

Since the early 1950s I have collected recordings of violinists and violin playing. I am now starting to shed much of my collection, since many performers simply do not age too well. One violinist whose recordings I will never delete, is Akiko Suwanai. She came second in the Queen Elizabeth in Brussels in 1989, and first in the Tchaikovsky in Moscow in 1990. In both competitions she played the Paganini D major concerto and the Moscow performance, in particular, is an amazing performance of true gold standard.

I have just been listening to a CD she recorded in Paris in 2016, with the pianist Enrico Pace (a present from a friend). The recording is excellent, with that difficult to achieve balance between piano and violin. The two works are the Franck sonata, plus the early Strauss sonata. Twenty six years on from Moscow, her playing has not diminished in the slightest; her performance of the Franck sonata, in particular, is suffused with a tender lyricism and the sonata sheds the beefiness from which it so often suffers. Throughout, Enrico Pace is an excellent partner.

She has had a relatively low profile career, but is well known to connoisseurs of violin playing. On record, she appears to specialise in the late romantic repertoire, with an impressive discography. Her recordings are always an excellent choice and I am particularly fond of her Dvorak Four Romantic Pieces (with Boris Berezovsky, 1998). She is notable for Czech music, also for Tchaikovsky, Brahms and Wieniawski. I heard her in person only once, giving an impressive performance of the Bartok violin concerto in Washington, with her hair flying in all directions. Akiko Suwanai is always on my automatic buy list.

Bach's St. Matthew Passion, and Karl Richter

There is no higher pinnacle in all music than Johann Sebastian Bach's St. Matthew Passion (circa 1727). Going on soon for 300 years since it first appeared, I listened to it once again with amazement and admiration. No one beats Bach's St. Matthew Passion. For around three and a half hours, the procession of arias, choruses and recitatives (all expertly varied and contrasted) delights the ear and the intellect. Nothing outstays its welcome. With a wonderful variety of instrumental accompaniments in the many arias, Bach proves himself at least the equal of Handel when it comes to melody. How on earth someone in Saxony in the 18^th century could ever have conceived this music defies all imagination. They don't compose music like this nowadays.

I listened to the work on a DGG set from 1958 (really good sound from the old DGG) conducted by the 33 year old Karl Richter, who started his Bach career at the Thomaskirche in Leipzig. I originally acquired this recording in 1959 or 60 as a gift from one of my sisters (a box of four LPs). I now have it on three CDs, expertly transferred by the old DGG. It's an all-star production of the best of German singers and instrumentalists in Munich at that period, with soloists including Ernst Haefliger, Irmgard Seefried, Hersha Töpper and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau. Tempi are relatively swift for those times, with nary a periwig, castrato or gut string in sight. It is my kind of Bach playing, and my kind of music; the first 20 seconds of the work are incredibly moving in announcing the tragic events to be narrated.

I am now firmly stuck on Bach for a period. It is no accident that he always features Number One when any lists of greatest composers are compiled. The Matthew Passion is assured of a further 300 years of life, but perhaps not in Israel, though the Jews in the St. Matthew Passion are not quite as villainous and blood-thirsty as those in the St. John Passion.

Heifetz, Primrose, and Feuermann

Despite the tens of thousands of recordings made over the past century plus, there are comparatively few Great Classics. Some are well known; Callas in Tosca (1953), Furtwängler conducting Tristan & Isolde (1952), Cortot, Thibaud & Casals in Schubert's D 898 piano trio (1926), Edwin Fischer playing the Bach 48 (1933-36), the Adolf Busch Beethoven recordings of the 1930s. And a few others.

On rare occasions, virtuosi get together to play and record music. I've been listening to Heifetz, Primrose and Feuermann playing Mozart's Divertimento K 563 (1941). This is another Great Classic as these three echt virtuosi soar and dive and complement each other. Heifetz does not dominate, but is a true chamber music partner. I've never been a fan of William Primrose, who has always struck me as an ex-violinist playing on a slightly larger violin tuned 1/5 lower so as to resemble a viola. However, he was a terrific player and is a worthy member of this string trio. In this recording, one just sits back and basks at three heavenly voices playing heavenly music. The recording transfer gives quite acceptable sound.

Mozart's String Quartets dedicated to Haydn

The string quartet with two violins, one viola and one cello is one of the greatest vehicles for great music. From around 1770 until 1828 the medium served as one where Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven and Schubert often composed the kind of intimate and personal music that made a change from the music they wrote for the gallery, the opera house, or for the court. Not until Shostakovich in the mid twentieth century did the string quartet reach such personal and intimate heights. (As always, there were, however, exceptions to this including Janacek's two string quartets, and Mendelssohn's quartet in F minor Opus 80.)

I have been re-listening to the six quartets Mozart dedicated to Haydn; along with Mozart's five string quintets, they are among the greatest music he ever wrote and underline his absolute right to one of the places on the podium of supreme composers of all time. I chose the recordings made in 1962 by the old Juilliard Quartet, full-throated performances lovingly played from an era before the more anaemic sounds of the “period pratice” string quartets began to take over. Mozart would have loved the recording, I suspect. These CD transfers are from the French Diapason company. Published in 1785, the quartets show Mozart revelling in his compositional skills; 235 years after their first publication, the six works still amaze and enthral every time I listen to them.

Diana Tishchenko Re-visited

I had a re-listen to the CD by Diana Tishchenko. I was enthusiastic the first time round; I am enthusiastic on subsequent listenings. What greatly impresses me on this CD is that I find my listening is concentrated on the music, not on the violin playing. The playing takes care of itself; technically immaculate and, as a friend remarked, her violin makes a lovely sound, but she does not thrust the sound in your face, as many violinists do. In the Ravel sonata, she does not ham-up the blues movement, and in the third Enescu sonata, she does not ham-up the Romanian folk element.

Maybe I was a little too lukewarm about the pianist, Zoltan Fejervari last time. He and Tishchenko play beautifully together and it's a good partnership. For a change, the recorded balance between piano and violin -- always a difficult one -- is excellent, with the pianissimo high passages in harmonics in the Enescu sonata clearly audible, for once. My only sniff is about the silly title for the CD: Strangers in Paris would have made some sort of sense, but Strangers in PARadISe just looks cheesy.

Otar Taktakishvili

I have always liked the Concerto No.1 in F minor for violin, written in 1976 by Otar Taktakishvili (1924-89). I have a recording of it played by Taktakishvili's fellow Georgian, Liana Isakadze with a Moscow orchestra conducted by the composer. The work is memorable, with haunting themes and the prevailing mood is melancholy. The violin spends a lot of time on the lower strings. Has anyone except Isakadze ever played it? I find its total neglect to be little short of extraordinary. Maybe no orchestra can obtain the parts? Maybe no conductor has ever even heard of it? Maybe violinists baulk at the key of F minor that among its four flats has A, D and E flat, thus making three of the four open strings out of bounds? Whatever the reason, I can find no currently available recording of this lovely work.

The only reason I have a copy is from a good friend in South America some time ago. The CD copy also contains Taktakishvili's concerto No.2 for violin & chamber orchestra (1986) with Isakadze and the Georgian Chamber Orchestra. Another genial work, a lot shorter than the first concerto. I also have the concertino for violin & small orchestra (1956) played by David Oistrakh with Taktakishvili and a Moscow orchestra. This one sounds like an early piece from circa 1890 written by a 32 year old Georgian. Oistrakh is bland and efficient and this work suffers from a lethal dose of socialist realism.

I am amazed at the neglect of the two mature Taktakishvili concertos. I once messaged Lisa Batiashvili asking her to consider the first concerto, but nothing happened. Taktakishvili seems known now only for his works with flute. Musical fashion, political correctness and musical correctness aside: would you not rather listen to one of Taktakishvili's violin concertos than to those by Schönberg, or Berg? During the twentieth century, Glazunov, Prokofiev, Shostakovich, Khatchaturian, and, of course, Otar Taktakishvili (who?) all wrote excellent violin concertos. Let us hear them all.

Beethoven's Violin Concerto, and Leonidas Kavakos

Until a few days ago, I had 90 recordings of Beethoven's violin concerto on my shelves. Then a good friend sent me another, so I now have 91. This 91^st is played and conducted by Leonidas Kavakos, a violinist I have liked for a couple of decades now. This 91^st is well played by orchestra (Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra) and soloist, and the recording (Sony) is very satisfactory.

So far, so good. One notices immediately, however, that the concerto is going to last for over 49 minutes (from memory, Heifetz and Toscanini raced through the same work in 39 minutes). Beethoven and Elgar thus tie for longest violin concertos! With Kavakos, the first movement alone takes over 27 minutes, of which at least five are occupied by a somewhat grotesque cadenza adapted by Kavakos from one Beethoven wrote for a piano version of the concerto. The first movement is marked allegro ma non troppo and it certainly is not troppo here; whether it is allegro is another matter -- during the G minor interlude in the first movement the music becomes almost static.

There are many cadenzas available for this concerto; Ruggiero Ricci once recorded those by David, Joachim, Laub, Vieuxtemps, Wieniawski, Saint-Saëns, Auer, Ysaÿe, Busoni, Kreisler, Milstein, and Schnittke. I like short, brilliant cadenzas that do not hold up the progress of the music for too long. Why anyone would want to adapt Beethoven's piano version cadenza for a violin is beyond my comprehension (as is the view of the original instrument brigade that the sound world of the original has to be respected and re-created, when composers such as Bach and Beethoven had no scruples about adapting their music to accommodate quite different sounds and instruments).

Of the other 90 versions of the concerto on my shelves, my favourites in alphabetical order remain Batiashvili (2007), Busch (1949), Grumiaux (1966), Kreisler (1926), Kulenkampff (1936), Neveu (1949), Röhn (1944), Schneiderhan (1962), and Suk (1965). Enough! We need a 20 year moratorium on recordings of the Beethoven violin concerto.

More from Vilde Frang

A good friend sent me a new CD from Vilde Frang, a violinist I much admire. The CD is a somewhat unhappy mixture of violin pyrotechnics, and solid music. So Paganini variations mixed with Schubert's Fantasie in C major, and Rondo brillant in B minor.

When it comes to pyrotechnics, I can happily skip Paganini's Paisiello variations with which Ms Frang chooses to open her CD. We all know that for a violinist, playing extended passages in harmonics is a real challenge, and that playing extended passages in double-stopped harmonics is a supreme challenge, as is extensive pizzicato with the fingers of the left hand. Supreme challenges even for a virtuoso: yes. But of real musical interest? Rarely. As a retired violinist, and a lover of the violin, I am somewhat exasperated by violinistic circus tricks with little musical content.

I greatly admire Ms Frang, but I am not really convinced by her pianist, Michail Lifits who is no Rudolf Serkin, or Clara Haskil. Ms Frang is not always lucky with her partners -- I still resent her Mozart concertos with Jonathan Cohen and his group of “authentic” scrapers and blowers in ye olde style. On this new CD, Mr Lifits is better when accompanying, as in the Paganini pieces, rather than as an equal partner, as in the Schubert works.

It's difficult to pinpoint what I don't like about much of the recorded sound. Is it that the pianist often plays too loudly and is apt to thump a bit? Or did the engineers miscalculate the dynamic range? Or did the balance engineer not reckon on the difference between a piano, and a violin playing pianissimo? All I know is that if I adjust the volume so that the piano playing does not occasionally blow my socks off, then a lot of the softer violin playing is hard to hear. And that is listening through headphones; listening via loudspeakers, that always tend to favour the bass and thus the piano, things would have been even more unsatisfactory. The worst affected is Schubert's lovely C major Fantasie for violin & piano which is nowhere near as enjoyable to listen to here compared with the all-time classic recording by Adolf Busch with Rudolf Serkin (1931). The piano (as recorded) just hogs the limelight too much of the time. And Lifits does bang a bit, on occasions.

To my surprise, I quite took to Ms Frang's rendition of Heinrich Ernst's take on Schubert's Erlkönig. Not a piece I like normally, but here the different voices are brought out admirably, and the pyrotechnics coped with effortlessly. The piece lasts for under four and a half minutes, but never outstays its welcome (unlike the two Paganini variations included on this CD).

So a bit of a curate's egg. Ms Frang would have been better to stick with a lot less Paganini, or with more Schubert. She remains, however, an excellent violinist.