Another opportunity comes around for me to discuss 
          some of Antonio Janigro’s Bach recordings. A Forgotten Records 
          [FR494/95] release (
review) 
          includes the same Bach sonata performances with Robert Veyron-Lacroix 
          that Doremi presents in this 3 CD set. To recap, briefly, Janigro (1918-1989) 
          diversified as a conductor, directing I Solisti di Zagreb, and recording 
          for Vanguard, as well as being a fine cellist. His name is still remembered 
          because he had a wide ranging career, partly also because of the longevity 
          of some of his LP recordings and their reinstatement - some of them 
          at least - on CD. 
            
          His recording of the Cello Suites is tentatively dated to c.1954. Whilst 
          at the time Casals would still be strongly in one’s mind, other 
          cellists were soon to make their mark on disc with the suites: Gendron, 
          Starker, Fournier, Navarra, Shafran and Tortelier amongst a number. 
          Starker and Fournier, indeed, recorded their performances between 1957 
          and 1960. Janigro plays with tonal warmth and constantly responsive 
          vibrato, making a pretty big sound. 
Sarabandes are invariably 
          taken very slowly, though if one listens to Fournier’s 1960 set, 
          one will notice that it’s not merely a question of tempo - as 
          Fournier is often just as slow as Janigro except in the case of a few 
          of the Sarabande movements. The strong differences lie in matters of 
          rhythmic underpinning, articulation speed and timbral variation. 
            
          
Minuets can be quite heavy as well - the D minor’s examples 
          are rather notably so. In the D major (No.6) he takes a very sedate 
          tempo for the 
Allemande, whilst the 
Sarabande really crawls 
          along. Once again it’s a case of the music ultimately lacking 
          a sense of drama and drive. The C major is a cut above his curiously 
          over-romanticised and indulgent recordings of Nos. 5 and 6. Its romanticism 
          is better organised and whilst, even in contemporary terms, it still 
          lacks any real terpsichorean imperative (and the 
Gigue is a bit 
          dogged) it sounds altogether better. It’s not surprising to hear 
          Janigro convert the 
Sarabande of No.4 in E flat major into a 
          
molto adagio effusion, the trill sounding commensurately sluggish.  
          
          
          When we turn to the Sonatas we meet Veyron-Lacroix (1922-1991) who was 
          a distinguished musician too. As a harpsichordist he was primarily a 
          soloist and chamber musician, and as a recording artist it’s the 
          work of early music for which he will be best remembered. Assiduous 
          collectors however will know that he didn’t ignore Poulenc, and 
          he often performed Milhaud and Françaix amongst others of his 
          contemporaries. Others will know of his long-time collaboration in concert 
          and on disc with Jean-Pierre Rampal. Veyron-Lacroix also re-recorded 
          these Bach viola da gamba - or more commonly these days on disc cello 
          - sonatas, with Tortelier.  
          
          Janigro’s warmly vibrated playing is matched by Veyron-Lacroix’s 
          often very bright registrations to produce sympathetic, legato-conscious 
          performances. Fast movements aren’t overstressed, and whilst slow 
          ones are relaxed they’re not at all supine. One can admire Janigro’s 
          richly broad tone, and its associated use of portamenti and other inflective 
          devices, all of which keep the ear keenly waiting. He can ensure that 
          the tonal reserves he employs do turn lean and focused too, as in the 
          
Allegro ma on tanto of the First Sonata, though he could perhaps 
          have lightened that tone and played with more terpsichorean vitality 
          in something like the 
Andante of the Second sonata; it matters 
          slightly less here than it does in the solo works. Sometimes Janigro’s 
          kind of romantic playing can sound rather unrelieved. Both play the 
          delicious passage in the allegro finale of the Second sonata very well; 
          especially where the cello supports the harpsichord with off-beat pizzicati, 
          like a jazz bassist. 
          
          There are bonuses of a sort, too. Janigro performs the Concerto in G 
          major fashioned by M. Kelemen, in which Janigro is accompanied by his 
          own group I Solisti di Zagreb. The result, whilst not really plausible, 
          and standing as a romanticist conceit, is nevertheless good to hear. 
          Finally, the cellist can be heard in a historic performance live at 
          the 1948 Prague Spring Festival. The concerto was the Boccherini-Grützmacher 
          confection, and Milan Horvat conducts the Prague Symphony. The sound 
          is a bit constricted in the same way that almost all broadcast survivors 
          from Prague Spring performances were - note this is true of Příhoda 
          and Navarra recordings at later events. Doremi doesn’t give a 
          specific date in 1948 for this performance but fortunately the Festival 
          has been well documented and a splendid chronicle of the Prague Spring 
          events discloses the date: 20 May. The other composers represented that 
          day were Jarvonić, Roussel and šulek. 
            
          Doremi’s transfer of the sonatas is far more forward than the 
          more recessed Forgotten Records disc. Admirers of the cellist should 
          welcome this extensive release and look forward to the other volumes 
          in the series. 
            
          
Jonathan Woolf
            
          Masterwork Index: 
Bach 
          cello suites