Maud Powell

Listening to old, acoustic recordings can be a labour of love, undertaken rarely for the sake of the music, and never for the sake of audio gratification. A friend ordered the four Naxos CDs of the complete recordings of Maud Powell twice, so he sent one set to me -- nearly five hours of recordings of nearly 70 tracks of music, none of the tracks lasting for more than 4 minutes and 50 seconds. The recordings date from 1904 to 1917 and were all made at the RCA Victor studios in America.

As was the case for Kreisler and Elman, both of whom were active in the same studios during these years, much of the music is pretty ephemeral: “Adoration” by Felix Borowski, “Silver Threads Among the Gold” by Hart Pease Danks, “Caprice on Dixie” by Dan Emmett, etc. Otherwise the same many short pieces popular during the period, with the strange exception of nothing at all by Fritz Kreisler. Unusually, de Bériot's 7th violin concerto is recorded “complete”, but with piano and many cuts to bring it down to 12 minutes and 55 seconds, or three 12 inch 78 rpm sides.

In the end, the only conceivable reason for listening to these five hours of music is to hear Maud Powell's violin playing. Born in 1867 in Illinois and a pupil of teachers who included Dancla in Paris and Joachim in Berlin, the recordings suggest a violinist of very considerable powers, including superb intonation, trills like they can never do nowadays, and a marvellously agile right arm. As was the fashion for most of her life, vibrato was used sparingly but effectively. Again, as was the fashion, portamenti are very common and do jar modern ears (one wonders why fanatics who insist on everyone playing “in the old style” don't insist on portamenti as well. But give them time ...). What comes over, above all, is the freshness, enthusiasm and vigour Maud Powell brought to her playing; none of the smooth, careful routine that we hear too often nowadays from many of the post-1950s violinists. What we cannot know, alas, is how her tempi relate to typical tempi nowadays. The tyranny of the 10 inch shellac side (three and a half minutes) or the 12 inch (four and a half) meant that until after the later 1940s, nearly everything had to be either speeded up, or cut back. Even played impossibly fast, Bazzini's Ronde des Lutins could never be done in 4 1/2 minutes, so it was always cut until after the later 1940s. Ms Powell plays many pieces here at a good lick, and Saint-Saën's Swan paddles past at top speed to get home in 2 minutes and 37 seconds and thus leave room for another piece on the same shellac side. Violinists, and lovers of violin playing, can learn a lot from these four Naxos CDs.

Anton Bruckner's Ninth Symphony

A number of great musical works were left unfinished for one reason or another, starting perhaps with Bach's Art of the Fugue (death) then Mozart's Requiem (death). Schubert's Unfinished symphony (plus many other of his works), Bruckner's Ninth symphony, Puccini's Turandot … and so on. Musicologists and others often attempt to complete such works or to flesh out skeletons such as Elgar's “Third” symphony, or Mahler's “Tenth”. Recently someone completed the finale to Bruckner's Ninth symphony (and Simon Rattle, for one, has recorded it). Bruckner wrestled for two years with this finale, before his death, and I can sort-of understand why: Bruckner's Ninth symphony does not need a finale (and Bruckner's finales were rarely high spots, anyway). The long adagio, so pregnant with feeling, makes a superb end to the symphony, and to Bruckner's opus.

Even after shedding many recordings, I am still left with a good number. In date order of recording: Furtwängler (1944), Horenstein (1952), van Beinum (1952), Knappertsbusch (1958), Schuricht (1961), Klemperer (1970), Horenstein (1970), Jochum (1978), Wand (1998), Haitink (2013) and, the latest acquisition, Claudio Abbado with the Lucerne Festival Orchestra (2013). The recording I grew up with was the faithful old Vox LP of Jascha Horenstein in 1952. For me, still the greatest of all recordings of this work is Furtwängler in 1944 (remastered by Pristine Audio).

I loved Haitink's mellow 2013 performance, with its tranquil tempi; now I also love Abbado's mellow 2013 performance, also with tranquil tempi. Looking at the long first movement, Abbado takes 26'47”. Klemperer 26'43”. Haitink 27'31”. At the other end of the spectrum, Furtwängler takes 23'37”. Horenstein 24'51”. Jochum a fleet 23'06”. Far too slow for me is Giulini weighing in at 28 minutes; I could not take this, so I gave the CD away even though, of course, timings only tell part of the story. But Giulini manages to make the Adagio last 29'30” while pretty well everyone else does around 25'30”, like Furtwängler and Abbado.

For me, Bruckner's Ninth is one of the world's great symphonies and I would never be without it. It is not music for young conductors. My last three forays into purchase have been Jochum, Haitink and Abbado and I would not be without any of them, perhaps especially the new Abbado with its superb recording and terrific orchestral playing from the 2013 Lucerne Festival Orchestra. But the emotionally-charged Furtwängler public performance from 1944 remains hors concours.

Brahms with Leonidas Kavakos and Yuja Wang

After around 60 years of listening, I am pretty over-familiar with the three violin and piano sonatas of Johannes Brahms. Superb music it may be; but I know it back to front and inside out so I am rarely in the market for any new recorded version. I made an exception for the new CD by Leonidas Kavakos and Yuja Wang; I have liked and admired Kavakos for over two decades, and I was curious to hear what Miss Wang made of the piano side of the duo sonatas. No regrets; this is a first class performance of the three works.

Kavakos plays as if meeting an old friend, with a great deal of affection. Yuja Wang plays as if she is enthusiastically exploring a new friend, and revelling in her role as duo partner. The violin seizes the listener's attention; the lucid piano playing seizes attention. Both players sound as if they are enjoying playing together. Very high level stuff.

The recording is interesting. The Hamburg studio has put the violin firmly and pretty exclusively in the left-hand channel, and Miss Wang pretty exclusively in the right-hand. The result is that one hears every note of the piano part, and every note of the violin part. Very well done, and I marvelled at the excellent balance. Leonidas Kavakos is a known quantity in the violin classics, but Yuja Wang is more often heard in Rachmaninov, Chopin, etc. Miss Wang seems to love her new duo sonata role, and I hope she explores more of it. I wrote recently about Tianwa Yang and Xiayin Wang, the highly talented young Chinese of the new generation. Should have been Wang, Yang and Wang because Xiayin, Tianwa and Yuja are really top international class musicians.

Hyperion Records

I suspect it is mainly the result of advances in recording technology and in the explosion of recording companies, but the present day witnesses a veritable explosion in the number of top-class young musicians. Thinking only of young violinists, there are: Tianwa Yang. Patricia Kopatchinskaja. Janine Janson, Liza Ferchstmann, Lisa Batiashvili, Alina Ibragimova, Leila Josefowicz, Hilary Hahn. Vilde Frang, Fanny Clamagirand, Julia Fischer, Annebella Steinbacher, Baiba Skride. And that is just young female violinists I have heard and whom I can list off the top of my head. If we add males, then pianists ...

I have written enough of my admiration for the playing of Alina Ibragimova. Recently I compared her with Arthur Grumiaux in that, whatever she plays, it goes automatically into my Top Three of that particular work. So it is this weekend with her CD of the two Prokofiev violin and piano sonatas, plus Five Pieces. Pianist is Steven Osborne. Straight into the Top Three of all three works.

Instead, let us talk about the admirable Hyperion record company. Decades ago, when extracting a Hyperion CD from its carrier, the CD broke clean in two. I immediately emailed the company and requested a replacement. Within hours, I receive a reply email from the late Ted Perry, the label's originator and CEO, apologising and saying a replacement was in the post. A company that looks after its customers. The current Ibragimova CD has a tasteful cover (an abstract painting of a violin by Juan Gris). Opening the notes, the first thing one sees is a full-page photo of ..... Sergei Prokofiev. The following liner notes are interesting and well written. There follows a quarter page photo of Ibragimova and a quarter page photo of Osborne. A world away from the modern DG or Warner. The biography of Ibragimova is excellent in that it tells us when and where she was born (Russia, 1985) and who her teachers were following the Gnesen School in Moscow. The biography of Osborne is less interesting, with just a boilerplate listing of orchestras and colleagues with whom he has ever played; everyone seems to have more or less the same list.

I always listen critically to balance, particularly in recordings of violin and piano. Violins have a pretty slender sound, especially when playing softly. Pianos can often wake the dead. With the current CD, I started listening via my loudspeakers and was not happy; modern speakers tend to emphasise the bass and neglect the treble, and this spells trouble with a violin and a piano, and a composer such as Prokofiev (who liked lots of deep piano notes). I later switched to my Sennheiser wireless headphones, and the balance improved. I then ended up with my Philips cable headphones, and balance was better, but still too much piano and not enough violin.

Yang & Wang

My late night listening today was to two Chinese women in their 20s: Xiayin Wang (piano) and Tianwa Yang (violin). Miss Wang played Rachmaninov, and Miss Yang played arrangements by Sarasate. An enjoyable late-romantic feast.

Tianwa Yang captures to perfection the elegance and sophistication that Sarasate's music demands. Technically she is completely on top of this rather difficult music, that makes considerable demands on a violinist's bowing technique. More importantly, she is also on top of Sarasate's stylistic demands. This evening's CD was the last and final episode in Miss Yang's traversal of pretty well all Sarasate's music; I loved it.

Then on to Miss Wang. Rachmaninov's two piano sonatas do not sound easy to play, even to a non-pianist like me. In places, I could swear there were four hands at work, not just two (e.g., towards the end of the slow movement of the first sonata). I admired greatly Miss Wang's first Rachmaninov CD (which is why I bought the current one, the second Rachmaninov CD from this pianist). Xiayin does not disappoint; as I remarked when talking about the first CD, she has power when power is needed, and delicacy when delicacy is needed. And she has technique to burn (much needed, I sense, in these two piano sonatas).

Famously, Rachmaninov the composer was much sniffed at by the critics for much of the twentieth century for writing late-romantic music in an era when any composer worth his salt was writing abstract, twelve-tone concoctions much admired by critics, if not by players and listeners. History has proved Sergei right, and the critics wrong. After over a hundred years, Rachmaninov's music -- like that of Sarasate -- is still being played and enjoyed. As per me, this evening.

Alina Ibragimova. Arthur Grumiaux

The Gramophone magazine is holding its annual “artist of the year” voting contest, with ten candidates. This year three of the ten, unusually, are violinists: Leonidas Kavakos, Alina Ibragimova, and Renaud Capuçon. My vote went to Ibragimova, but I did hesitate a bit over Vasily Petrenko, the dynamic young Russian conductor.

In the 1950s, 60s and 70s, almost anything recorded by Arthur Grumiaux was a strong recommendation. The Belgian violinist did not like to travel so never achieved an international performing artist reputation. But the Dutch Philips company was more than willing to record him in any music he wanted to play, so we have a multitude of first-class recordings by him from that era, be it in Bach, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert or the Franco-Belgian composers such as Franck, Vieuxtemps, Saint-Saëns, Ravel, Debussy, etc. Grumiaux was primarily a supreme chamber music and duo sonata player, but this did not stop him from recording Tchaikovsky, Paganini, Lalo, etc. You can never go too wrong with a Grumiaux recording.

To my mind, Ibragimova holds a similar position in this century to Grumiaux's in the last. Her Bach sonata playing is supreme. Her Beethoven violin and piano sonata set is truly excellent, as is her Schubert. She excels in Lekeu, Ravel, Chausson, Debussy. She is also to be found promulgating Roslavets, Hartmann, Bartok, and Szymanowski. Promised for the near future are recordings of all the Prokofiev violin & piano works, plus the six solo sonatas of Eugène Ysaÿe. Like Grumiaux, in the main, she seems to avoid the highly virtuoso repertoire of Paganini, Ernst, Wieniawski and Sarasate. Ms Ibragimova is a serious musician and, like Grumiaux, she has her own chamber music group (Chiaroscuro – “authentic”, alas). I have only heard her in person once, at a concert in Bath where she performed solo Bach sonatas and partitas, including a truly memorable performance of the Chaconne from the second partita. Her playing has been characterised as raw but sleek; wild but controlled. In Bach when I heard her, her violin whispered, and roared. The little blond Russian girl is a truly wonderful artist and violinist, which is why she gets my vote.

As a footnote to Arthur Grumiaux: Some years ago I obtained from a friend in South America a set of recordings of 44 short violin pieces played by “Heiftz” on a Korean label. Almost none of the pieces had ever been recorded by Jascha Heifetz, and a comparison of those that had, revealed that the “Heiftz” violinist was not Jascha (though superficially similar). A comparison of those short pieces by "Heiftz" that were also recorded for Philips by Grumiaux, strongly suggests that the Korean “Heiftz” was, in fact, Grumiaux (probably moonlighting under a pseudonym in return for some much-needed hard cash). Needless to say, all 44 pieces were played with Heifetzian aplomb.

Camille Saint-Saëns

The music of Camille Saint-Saëns is highly agreeable, well-crafted and often memorably tuneful. Apart from his “Organ” symphony and the Swan from the Carnival of the Animals, it seems to be rarely played or recorded at the present time. It was not always so: the Introduction & Rondo Capriccioso, Havanaise and first violin and piano sonata were staple diet for Jascha Heifetz (who, mysteriously, never recorded any of the three violin concertos). One or two of the piano concertos turn up from time to time, as does the third violin concerto (but very rarely the second, which I find an odd situation). The second concerto is rarely recorded and even more rarely played in concert; it features on CDs of the complete Saint-Saëns violin concertos, and was memorably – if erratically – recorded by Ivry Gitlis in 1968, with some pretty weird vibrato in the slow movement. But one does not listen to Gitlis for orthodoxy.

Most unfair, but perhaps fashions will change. I had a mini- Saint-Saëns festival the other day, with pretty well all his music for violin and piano, and violin and orchestra played by Fanny Clamagirand (Naxos). Ms Clamagirand is no Heifetz or Kreisler, but she plays this music extremely well and with an authentic French accent (Saint-Saëns does not take well to the hectoring machismo that we hear too often in various accounts of the third concerto). There are many worse ways to while away a few hours than listening to the music of Camille Saint-Saëns! Like Fanny Clamagirand, Philippe Graffin has recorded all of Saint-Saëns' music for violin and piano, and violin and orchestra. On the whole, I prefer Graffin's leaner, more athletic style to that of Clamagirand. But we are lucky to have both.

Tchaikovsky's Pathétique Symphony

Over the decades, a music lover will build up a “core” repertoire: works that are somehow special to him or to her, often without rhyme or reason or attempt to define “greatest” or “great”. Among many, two symphonies that have ended up firmly in my core repertoire are Sibelius's sixth symphony, and Tchaikovsky's sixth -- the Pathétique.

I first met the Pathétique long, long ago conducted by Toscanini, of all people. Followed by Cantelli and Furtwängler, then Evgeny Mravinsky, then Mikhail Pletnev. And I have now ended, happily, with Valery Gergiev and the Kirov Orchestra. Nothing quite equals Russians plunging wholeheartedly into Tchaikovsky. To me, the Pathétique is a marvellous work, full of contrasts, colour, supreme orchestration, heart-rending melodies, and gut-wrenching full-blooded emotions. Nothing quite like it! I wallow in it, with the greatest of pleasure, as I did this evening. With the volume turned well up (and the headphones firmly in place). No need, I suspect for further recorded versions; Gergiev and the Kirov Orchestra are just fine for me.

Marc-André Hamelin

I've always had an on-off relationship with pianist composers such as Chopin, Schumann, Liszt, Alkan and Scriabin. Not that I am ever anti-piano, but I do prefer the more human and personal sounds of string instruments. I can, however, be bowled over by really first class piano performances such as Gieseking in Debussy, Cortot in Chopin or Edwin Fischer in Bach, where superb musicianship and love of the music shines through. This weekend I was greatly impressed with an all-piano record played by Marc-André Hamelin on which he plays Janacek's On the Overgrown Path, plus Schumann's Waldszenen and Kinderszenen. Technically, the music sounds pretty simple and straightforward and is mainly far from being virtuoso stuff. But Hamelin's playing is entrancing; I never knew pianos could play so softly. I don't know the Schumann pieces very well (and the Janacek not at all, until now) so I cannot judge whether my impression that Hamelin plays some of the slower pieces too slowly is correct, or not. Anyway, a remarkable CD from a remarkable pianist; it is amazing just how many superb violinists and pianists come out of Canada, a country with a total population of only around 35 million people.

A Good Weekend

Rather a good weekend, with Handel arias (Sandrine Piau) and mixed songs and lieder (same singer), plus Sarasate, plus Diana Damrau singing songs and lieder, all rounded off with Bernard Haitink conducting Bruckner (a magnificent 9th Symphony with the LSO). I love Sandrine Piau's voice; it is mellow and well-rounded, with none of the over-brightness or tendency to hardness that one finds in some sopranos. Food was veal escalope, asparagus, smelly French cheeses, apricot purée, fresh fruit salad (mainly peaches), lamb Rogan Josh, avocado pear, excellent 2010 Saint-Emilion wine. All together, not a bad weekend musically or gastronomically.

Smetana Trio and Shostakovich

There is a long list of first class French composers, from the nineteenth century onwards: Berlioz. Bizet. Saint-Saëns. Fauré. Ravel. Debussy. Franck (by adoption). Duparc. Chausson. The question is sometimes asked: “Who is the greatest French composer?” The answer, I suppose, is there really isn't one, in the sense of Bach, Handel, Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, Brahms, Wagner, and so on. Listening this evening to Ravel's well-known and well-written Piano Trio in A minor, I chafed a little at so much compositional skill being applied to something that was, well, just extremely well-written. It reminded me a bit of the music of William Walton; very clever, but somehow divorced from human emotions. Moving on after a pause to Shostakovitch's Piano Trio No.2 in E minor, we enter an entirely different world, a world where the music speaks to us. We don't admire Shostakovitch's piano trio. We feel the emotions behind the music, and we live the music.

Superb executants of both trios (and including Shostakovitch's early first trio) was the Smetana Trio, recorded in Prague by entirely admirable Czech recording engineers at Supraphon. Piano trios are difficult to balance. But if you want to record a piano trio; go to Prague. And for a really great piano trio: Shostakovitch's E minor trio should be near the top of your list.

The Busch Quartet and the late Beethoven Quartets: Pristine Audio

Pristine Audio (Andrew Rose) has brought out a 3-CD set of most of the late Beethoven string quartets (nos. 12, 13, 14, 15 and 16) along with the first Rasumovsky, number 7; played by the Busch String Quartet. I've had these recordings for over 30 years, originally on LP, then on CD. The GROC transfers from EMI were not bad, but Andrew Rose's are better, with more “air” around the slightly warmer sound. It is excellent to have these really great performances from the 1930s (with a couple of early 1940s) in the best possible transfers. The Busch late Beethoven quartet performances are legendary, with an intensity that is especially noticeable in the slow movements (for example, the long 17 minute adagio of the E flat quartet, Op 127). The refurbished sound on these transfers is so good, and the performances so authoritative that I have to wonder why I keep shelves full of alternative versions; when it comes to the late Beethoven quartets, why would I listen to anyone other than the Busch? The transfers from the European recordings of the earlier 1930s sound better than the two transfers from the American recordings of the earlier 1940s, for some reason. And, oh, why did the Busch Quartet never record the Grosse Fuge!

For me, the late Beethoven quartets occupy the very pinnacle of classical music (along with some of Bach's major works). I cannot imagine better performances of this great music. Now on to Busch's Bach, Mr Rose! The Brandenburg concertos, in particular, have a joy in music making that communicates itself over the 80 years or so since the recordings were made. Unfashionable Busch's Bach may be at the present time; but it is still great, and thoroughly enjoyable.

Magdalena Kozena / Deirdre Moynihan

It is not too often I buy compilation CDs (as opposed to recitals). However, as a long-term admirer of Magdalena Kozena I bought a two-CD set of her singing various music from Monteverdi to Ravel, via Czech folk songs. As befits this singer, everything is superb (though I wince a bit a some her singing in French). Over two hours of enjoyment.

When I was in my teens, Schubert's piano and string quartet music had been re-discovered. Mahler and Bruckner were emerging from oblivion. Handel was still considered mainly as the composer of The Messiah, Water Music, Fireworks Music and “Handel's Largo” (as if he only wrote one piece of music with that tempo indication). Antonio Vivaldi was an Italian who wrote The Four Seasons; and that was pretty much all. Vivaldi is now re-emerging as a composer of operas and cantatas, so I snapped up a new Naxos CD where, for 55 minutes, Deirdre Moynihan sings four highly interesting Vivaldi cantatas, with backing provided by the Ensemble Nota Velata (two violins, viola, cello, harpsichord).

The music is three star, but I really cannot take Ms Moynihan as recorded here. Her voice is bright, and recorded near the microphone where she sings at a relentless mezzo-forte. There is no “space” around the voice as recorded here, and after a few minutes it really gets on my nerves. The Ensemble Nota Velata has been warned that, to sound “authentic”, the strings have to eschew all vibrato, so they produce a dry, acidic backing. Senza vibrato may well have been how people played in those far-off days, but there is no need to avert one's gaze from advances in instrumental sound and technique that have occurred since. Violins played senza vibrato simply do not sound as attractive as violin playing warmed by a little vibrato. And if one wants to be historically correct, there was no question back in 1720 or whenever, of recording a concert and then playing it back twenty years or so later in one's own living room. We have, thank goodness, seen off “authentic” boy trebles as substitutes for sopranos. We have seen off sopranos singing with a “white”, vibrato-less sound. We have seen off harpsichords or forte-pianos thunking away at all keyboard music prior to around 1830. Hopefully, soon, the wind of fashion will change again and the acid baroque violin sound will be confined to the corridors of institutes of historical performance studies. On this Vivalidi CD, the band sounds like an econo-band beloved of music financial controllers (the same people who love eight part choruses sung “authentically” by four soloists). Agreed that Vivaldi did not envisage the Vienna Philharmonic as instrumental players for his cantatas. But give me any day something like the Venice Baroque Orchestra that accompanies Magdalena Kozena in many of the eighteenth century pieces in her compilation.

Volker Reinhold plays Sarasate

A commenter on this blog mentioned a Sarasate recital CD by Volker Reinhold, accompanied by Ralph Zedler. Since the CD contains 74 minutes of music comprising six opera fantasies by Sarasate, I snapped up the CD. Herr Reinhold appears to be 50 years old, lives and works in north-east Germany, and has a love of playing the music of Kreisler and Sarasate. This is apparently his début CD (Dabringhaus & Grimm).

A pleasant surprise from this totally unknown violinist (unknown to me, that is). He plays with taste, accuracy and obvious enjoyment. He is well accompanied, well recorded and balanced. The music is highly enjoyable. How does he compare with Tianwa Yang, who up until now has been “Miss Sarasate” and has also recorded all six pieces on the Reinhold CD? Well, Miss Yang has a little more nonchalance, where needed, and a little more joie de vivre, where needed. Compared with her, Herr Reinhold can sometimes sound a little solemn and straight-laced. But this is quibbling a bit, since the Dabringhaus CD has given me a great deal of pleasure. Pablo de Sarasate is holding his own in the affections of violinists and listeners after 130 years or so. And Herr Reinhold proves you do not need to have a big name and powerful PR backing to be a superb violinist and well worth listening to.

Tianwa Yang plays Eugène Ysaÿe

It has always seemed to me that Yehudi Menuhin endorsed each new violinist presented to him as “the most wonderful I have ever heard”. So, I am conscious, I do with each and every new recording of Eugène Ysaÿe's much recorded six sonatas for solo violin. Only recently I was enthusing over complete sets from Kristof Barati and from Tai Murray. Today I am enthusing over a brand-new complete set from Tianwa Yang, the phenomenal Chinese violinist. Miss Yang transitions well from Sarasate (her recent 10-hour traversal) to Eugène Ysaÿe. Replying to a critic of Jascha Heifetz's speed in a certain work, Leopold Auer is said to have retorted: “Ah, yes. But you listened to every note, did you not?” When Tianwa Yang plays Ysaÿe, I listen to every note, since there is so much variety in the sound coming from her 1729 Petrus Guarneri violin. It reminds you just how great a range of colour a violin can come up with, in the right hands.

Nemanja Radulovic

Even now, after 200 years, much of the music of Niccolò Paganini is tough going, technically. Most top class violinists can play the notes accurately, but there are still visible challenges, like the melody in double stops in the finale of the first concerto, played in harmonics. I seem to have amassed 45 recordings of Paganini's first concerto, going alphabetically from Vasco Abadjiev to Ion Voicu. My principal heroes in the piece are Leonid Kogan, Viktoria Mullova, and Michael Rabin. The latest addition, number 45, is Nemanja Radulovic accompanied by the Italian Radio Orchestra.

From the many contemporary accounts of Paganini's playing, not only was he an incredible technician, but also a major showman and mesmeriser. This came to mind listening to Radulovic, whose playing swoons, wows, slows, speeds, whispers, shouts and generally indulges in a fair degree of rubato, tempo changes and very wide changes in dynamics. Paganini would probably have considered it “authentic”; most other performances sound somewhat staid and bland compared with Radulovic, and the Italian orchestra accompanies with the kind of enthusiastic gusto Paganini probably imagined from the sounds of early 19th century Italian opera orchestras.

Radulovic had me listening to every note (except some of the pianissimos, that were pretty inaudible to me). Someone who can have me hanging on to every note for 37 minutes in a piece of music I know inside out, gets my vote; this is a performance to which I shall return many times. The CD also contains three caprices, plus other Paganini numbers, all played with quite incredible technical aplomb. I suspect I might feel differently about Radulovic in Bach, Beethoven or Brahms. But for Paganini: he's my man.

Bernard Haitink in Bruckner

During the 1950s when I was exploring music, I acquired Mahler's Kindertotenlieder (Ferrier) and 4th Symphony (Kletzki), as well as Bruckner's 9th Symphony (Horenstein). I still have all three recordings. That was the start of my love affair with the music of Mahler and Bruckner. Both composers were late 19th century Austrians (though Mahler was a bit younger) and both wrote more or less nine symphonies. Actually, there the resemblance ends, and my enthusiasm for Mahler waned over the decades, but the love of Bruckner grew. There is a nobility and sincerity about Bruckner's music that makes it eternal and deeply satisfying.

Jascha Horenstein was a sure guide in Bruckner's 9th (I still find his reading of the demonic scherzo the most demonic of them all) but his 1952 recording was a bit thin and weedy. Later came many more, including van Beinum, Furtwängler, Jochum, Klemperer, Knappertsbusch, Schuricht and Wand, with Wilhelm Furtwängler's 1944 performance perhaps being the greatest of the great. Bruckner needs good sound -- the only conceivable drawback to Furtwängler and Horenstein. He needs a really good conductor, one who can control the ebb and flow of the music, retain a true pulse, shape the phrasing and sculpt the dynamics; and avoid Thomas Beecham's jibe against Bruckner that he heard seven pregnancies and six miscarriages.

There are conductors who achieve many column inches in the media -- Bernstein, Barenboim, von Karajan, Dudhamel, Rattle, et al. And conductors who achieve quiet reputations among cognoscenti and orchestral players: Boult, Klemperer, Horenstein, Knappertsbusch, Wand -- and Bernard Haitink. My father, an orchestral player for most of his life, thought the world of Pierre Monteux. A neighbour of mine who was a prominent player in the Philharmonia in the 1970s when I lived in London, when asked by me which of the present conductors the Philharmonia preferred, replied succinctly: “We don't mind who conducts us, as long as it isn't Menuhin”. Orchestral players have their own hierarchies and most, I suspect, regard most conductors as unnecessary and often expensive hangers-on. But not, I suspect, when it comes to Bruckner symphonies that really need an overall controller to sort out those questions of pulse, tempo and dynamics. A conductor-less orchestra would be hard-pressed in Bruckner.

Tellingly, Bruckner is rarely the pasture where media-celebrity conductors shine. I was gripped and enthralled all over again by Bruckner's ninth symphony in a new recording (2013, live) from Bernard Haitink and the LSO. I frequently smiled during this performance as Haitink so expertly negotiated Bruckner's many tempo changes, seams and joints. The performance is leisurely, as befits a conductor in his 80s and, I would argue, Bruckner's music of the late 19th century Austria where everyone was in less of a hurry than nowadays. The LSO plays superbly here, and the recording is really first rate. What more does one want? Well, Furtwängler in 1944 does provide that little something extra, but one has to weigh the something extra against the inferior sound. I give both Furtwängler and Haitink three stars in this work and am really pleased to have added 2013 Haitink to my collection.

Adolf Busch

Adolf Georg Wilhelm Busch's life was blighted by history and politics – like so many of his generation. Born in Germany in 1891, by the time he was ready to launch his professional career, the Great War broke out. After the war, defeated Germany suffered poverty, hyper-inflation, then a massive economic collapse. The rise of National Socialism saw Busch leaving for self-imposed exile in Switzerland in 1933. He then eked out a career in the 1930s with teaching, concerts and with recording in England. With the arrival of the second world war, Busch left for America where, again, he eked out a living with teaching and a few concerts. His health suffered, and he died in exile in America in 1952 at the age of sixty one in frail health.

A highly interesting double CD set from the Swiss company Guild Historical reveals what a major violinist Busch was, in his prime. Berlin recordings from 1921-2, and 1928-9 show Busch as a violinist of real stature. His recording début had to wait until he was 29 years old, but the 1921-2 recordings show a violinist with a characteristic slashing right arm, exact intonation, exhilarating trills and a superb sense of rhythm; he is particularly admirable in the Brahms Hungarian dances on the CDs. In Bach, Busch is noble and authoritative, but it is particularly interesting to hear him in music he never again recorded (or was allowed to record) such as short pieces by Corelli, Dvorak, Brahms, Gossec, Kreisler and Schumann.

Violin classes at music conservatories could well start with in-depth listening to violinists such as Kreisler, Busch and Enescu – in particular, the use of bow strokes to articulate phrasing and rhythm. Post-1950, smooth, seamless bowing became the accepted fashion (David Oistrakh remarked how Yehudi Menuhin used lots of bow strokes, and Menuhin's teachers included Enescu and Busch).

The sound on these recordings from the 1920s is surprisingly good, and few allowances need to be made. The string quartet excerpts from 1922 suffer most; good for listening to Busch, but the other three merge into a mush far from the horn. The jump in quality when we reach 1928 is very noticeable. I enjoyed everything on these two CDs except, perhaps, Busch's rendition of Schumann's Träumerei (arranged by Hüllweck) which is very slow and with lavish portamenti that distract. Busch's blighted solo violin career was tragic for him – but also for us.