Good Friday and Anton Bruckner

Good Friday circa 1955-56 I headed out from the Rue Vavin in Paris where I was staying, crossed the Jardin de Luxembourg, and headed down the Boulevard Saint-Michel until I reached the Théâtre du Châtelet where the Colonne orchestra conducted by Carl Schuricht was playing Wagner's Good Friday music, and Bruckner's 7^th symphony. This was my first introduction to the music of Anton Bruckner, and he and I have remained firm friends ever since (as has my love of Wagner's music).

Edward Elgar's Piano Quintet

It is sad that so much really worthwhile music from the past is rarely, or never played. I recently rejoiced in my discovery of Jean-Philippe Rameau's music, but I suspect one could attend concerts for years on end even in highly musical countries such as Germany or France without encountering performances of Edward Elgar's Piano Quintet. I first encountered the work many years ago at a concert in Boxgrove Priory accompanied by three of my four sisters, and I immediately fell in love with it. Composed in 1918-19 after the devastation in Europe of the first world war, the quintet is suffused with an aching nostalgia for a world that had disappeared (Elgar's world, since he was in his early sixties when he composed it). I listened to it again today in a 2010 recording by Piers Lane and the Goldner String Quartet. Maybe the finale is not quite up to the standard of the first two movements but, then, finales rarely are. Elgar's piano quintet is a wonderful work from 100 years ago and it will always be on my “play it again” list.

Jean-Philippe Rameau and Vikingur Olafsson

When it came to keyboard works, Jean-Philippe Rameau (1663-1741) had some pretty distinguished semi-contemporaries including Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750) and Domenico Scarlatti (1685-1757). Bach is of course well known, and Scarlatti's sonatas are often played by prominent pianists. But Rameau has been pretty neglected and even I, after a lifetime of music, would have been hard put to think of even one piece by him that I knew.

No longer. Thanks to Vikingur Olafsson and a new CD just out, I can join the slender Rameau fan club. His keyboard music is memorable and quirky, far removed from the paint-by-numbers salon music that the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries often churned out. The pièces de clavecin excerpts in this selection are especially remarkable. Olafsson juxtaposes short pieces by Rameau with short pieces by Debussy, an excellent idea. Too many musicians just record and re-record the same old Moonlight sonatas and Liszt sonatas and I welcome the introduction to a variety of short pieces. Olafsson is an extraordinary pianist — a sensitive musician as well as a real virtuoso — and I already sense he is going to be my Artist of the Year even though it is not yet April.

Vilde Frang: Homage CD

One mark of an exceptional violinist is the ability to vary dynamics, sound and bowing according to what is being played, and where. I recall attending a recital many years ago in the Wigmore Hall in London to hear the excellent violinist Hilary Hahn play recital music, including Bach's sonatas and partitas (I forget which ones). She played superbly ... but it was all too bloody loud! She had been trained to play out with a big sound in a large hall, and in the small recital hall I longed for a remote control to turn the sound down a few notches. It was always commented that Yehudi Menuhin, even during his good periods, always played the same be it in Purcell or Bartok.

Spending a lot of time indoors at the moment because of cold winds and dangerous viruses, I am replaying sections of my CD collection. Today it was a CD with the title Homage recorded by Vilde Frang where she plays 17 different and well-known morceaux or vignettes for violin and piano; a real challenge to keep a listener's attention. Ms Frang succeeds; she is an excellent violinist, technically — viz her playing of Scriabin's étude in thirds arranged by Szigeti — but more importantly, she has a superb palette of colours, dynamics and approach. I am having something of a Vilde Frang season at home at the moment; still aged only 33, she is a violinist well worth listening to.

Food Shopping: March 2020

Shopping today was a bit like Russia in the 60s and 70s: you forgot about shopping lists, and just bought what you could. Banana section was a desert; taramasalata to be had nowhere. Plenty of bread in M&S Food, but "Count on Us" range of dishes had only one or two packets left on the entire shelf. Fish counter in Morrison's closed down, and Deli counter due to close shortly (I snatched up the last brawn I'll see for probably many months, and live mussels are now just a dream). I avoided my fellow-shoppers (nothing new there). Every time Russians went out during the 50s, 60s and 70s, it is said they used to carry "just in case" bags so they could snatch up whatever had just been put on display. A bit like Morrison's in March 2020. But I did manage to snatch up an M&S fish pie. Next week I'll clear the shelves of Waitrose crab pâté, and pork pie.

Benjamin Britten and Vilde Frang

Listening this evening was Benjamin Britten's violin concerto (1938-9). A work that was overlooked or dismissed for decades, but has recently — and deservedly — come into its own. A great pity Britten did not pursue that line of composition and produce more violin concertos, rather than dabbling around with works starring Peter Pears. Star violinist this evening was the wonderful Vilde Frang, one of those who has adopted the work; she recently apparently reduced many in the audience at the Barbican in London to tears with her performance with the LSO. On record this evening, I cannot imagine a better performance (Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by James Gaffigan).

In Praise of Dmitri Shostakovich

A pipsqueak musical “expert” writing in the mainstream media once put forward his list of the Seven Greatest Composers. Why he chose just seven, and not six or nine, was not clear. However, he nominated Igor Stravinsky as “the greatest composer of the 20^th century”.

Nothing against old Igor, and he did write some splendid music, including the Firebird and Petrouchka. But “great” or “greatest”? For the record, I recognise much great music – particularly written during the 18^th and 19^th centuries, great meaning to me music that will probably be enjoyed and listened to for over 200 years. Again for the record, I don't think the 20^th century produced much, or any, “great” music. Sergei Rachmaninov maybe, but he was really more end-of 19^th than 20^th century. And maybe Dmitri Shostakovich whose tenth symphony I have just been listening to in a 2010 public performance by the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Mariss Jansons. The tenth symphony is a major work, and justly popular. Jansons and the Bavarians bring out the angst and sheer terror recorded in the work (that Shostakovich did not dare reveal until after the death of Stalin). The recording quality here is excellent, but most listeners will need headphones because the dynamics in the terror passages become extremely loud.

Shostakovich wrote many, many major works amongst his 15 symphonies, 15 string quartets and much chamber music. His first violin concerto — another work unpublished until Stalin had died — is probably my favourite violin concerto. (The violin concertos by Beethoven and Brahms are almost certainly even greater, but after nearly 70 years of listening to them I have heard them a little too often). So was it Shostakovich rather than Stravinsky who was the “greatest” composer of the 20^th century? I repeat that I am far from sure that the 20^th century produced any “great” music, but in my view Shostakovich deserves recognition — a little belated in arriving — as the major composer of the last century.

The Violin, and Sueye Park

I re-listened with great admiration to the CD of Sueye Park playing Paganini's 24 caprices. Ms Park was only 17 at the time of this recording, I seem to remember, but she combines extraordinary technical ability with a thoughtful and musical approach to the works. The 24 caprices should not be an excuse for pure virtuoso showing off. Listening to the works, I am also full of admiration for what can be achieved on the four strings of one violin, and I am reminded that these are works that tend to shine with younger players – Tianwa Yang, and Michael Rabin spring to mind. Many violinists, like singers, tend to descend into Autumn after the age of around 50; pianists and conductors seem to go on for ever.

The violin with its four strings is a difficult instrument to play well. I took up the violin at the age of 11 or 12 (very late). In 1962 I acquired from a charity shop my current violin, labelled Mantegazza, Milan, 1792. Probably a fake, but the Mantegazza clan was prolific for over half a century, so maybe it was made by a junior Mantegazza in 1792. Anyway, it's my violin, not that at the age of nearly 80 I can play at all well. 80 is well past 50. Maybe I should take up conducting; a baton in the right hand is a lot less demanding than a violin bow.

Diana Damrau sings Richard Strauss

With a music-loving friend (in his 80s) we once started to listen to Richard Strauss's Vier letzte Lieder in a 2016 broadcast performance featuring Diana Damrau and a Bavarian orchestra conducted by Kirill Petrenko. After the first song, my friend said he'd had enough, since he couldn't stand Damrau's vibrato any more.

Diana Damrau has a lovely voice, and she is a wonderful musician, so I bought her latest CD since I like Strauss's songs, and the CD has around 20 Lieder, with the excellent Helmut Deutsch as pianist. The CD also contains the Four Last Songs, where the Bavarian Radio Orchestra is conducted by Mariss Jansons, with superb violin solos in Beim Schlafengehen, (and Morgen), from Anton Barakhovsky. All well and good, and a fine CD. But Damrau's wobbly vibrato does grate on the nerves, particularly in the many slower works on the disc. At times it almost induces seasickness. I certainly do not subscribe to the school of thought that says vibrato is a bad thing; but vibrato needs to be applied tastefully and judiciously. I suppose one cannot have it all, so the CD misses its third star.

Vasily Petrenko, and the Liverpool Philharmonic

Orchestral heydays come and go. In the past, orchestras such as the Berlin Philharmonic, Philadelphia Orchestra, Vienna Philharmonic, Leningrad Philharmonic, and the Philharmonia orchestras all achieved pinnacles of success (many of them are still truly excellent). Some conductors could inspire even second-rate orchestras to give wonderful performances (one thinks of Jascha Horenstein who was a wandering conductor of a great variety of orchestras in the 1950s, 60s and 70s). I have just been enjoying a CD of Russian works – Mussorgsky, Khachaturian, Kabelevsky, Shchedrin, Rachmaninov – conducted by the Russian Vasily Petrenko, still in his mid- 40s. Petrenko conducts the Liverpool Philharmonic which sounds, as so often under his baton, like an excellent Russian orchestra in this repertoire.

Confusingly, there are two Russian Petrenko conductors on the go at the moment (not related). Vasily Petrenko comes from St Petersburg and currently specialises in the music of Northern Europe (the Russians, Shostakovich, Tchaikovsky, and Elgar – whose music he conducts superbly). He has been found mainly with the Liverpool Philharmonic and the Oslo Philharmonic, though he takes up an appointment at the Royal Philharmonic in England next year. Kirill Petrenko was born in Omsk, though he emigrated at an early age to Austria and Germany and is to be found mainly in Munich, and now Berlin.

I enjoyed the 73 minutes of Petrenko's latest Russian recording that includes Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition as orchestrated by Ravel. After the Great Gate of Kiev we have a little over two minutes of an orchestration of Rachmaninov's Romance Op 21 No.7 - It's peaceful here, where the Liverpudlians almost sound like the old Leningrad Philharmonic. In his chosen repertoire, Vasily Petrenko is definitely one of my favourite conductors.

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.