Béla BARTÓK (1881-1945) 
          Violin Concerto No. 1 [22:06] 
          Violin Concerto No. 2 [35:48] 
          Isabelle Faust (violin) 
          Swedish Radio Symphony Orchestra/Daniel Harding 
          rec. Berwaldhallen, Stockholm, April 2012 
          HARMONIA MUNDI HMC 902146 [57:59] 
        
         A new release from Isabelle Faust is worth getting 
          excited about. Her recent recordings - most notably her Brahms, Beethoven 
          and Berg concertos - have been universally acclaimed, so I was already 
          well disposed to this Bartók disc even before I pressed play. 
          It lives up to the hype with solo playing of sensitivity and playfulness 
          and an orchestral sound that fits it like a hand to a glove. 
            
          Faust is the star of the show and she is, indeed, marvellous throughout. 
          In the First Concerto her playing is sensitive, delicate, tentative 
          even, pointing up the tenderness of the concerto and reminding us that 
          it is, effectively, a love letter to Stefi Geyer. I loved the mood of 
          the opening where, as Faust spins out the solo line, the orchestral 
          violins slowly join in, gradually joined by the rest of the orchestra, 
          building up a web of sound that is utterly beguiling. The violin becomes 
          increasingly rapturous as the movement progresses, echoing the soaring 
          emotions of the young composer. The orchestral sound also develops a 
          soaring quality, buoyed up by Harding’s sensitive direction which 
          is controlled and disciplined but which also knows when to let go. There 
          is then a much more subversive mood to the second movement, which fully 
          lives up to its giocoso marking. Faust romps away at the beginning, 
          but then becomes much more refined and delicate as the second subject 
          creeps in, and it’s marvellous listening to this theme unfurl 
          in the context of the wider orchestra. Around about the five-minute 
          mark there is a lovely moment where the violin seems to be stamping 
          its feet against the thrums of the orchestra, and the riot of colour 
          provided by the winds throughout this movement sounds so fresh that 
          it might as well have just been flicked off a paintbrush. Faust’s 
          passage-work is never merely for show but always to serve the purpose 
          of the music, and the return of Stefi’s theme at the very end 
          is very delicately handled. 
            
          The Second Concerto is, if anything, even finer. The opening 
          verbunkos theme unfolds with a mixture of nobility and good humour. 
          Faust seems to revel in the opportunity to lead it off into all sorts 
          of unexpected directions, with some astonishing double-stops and runs. 
          Playfulness then takes over before the rhapsodically beautiful emergence 
          of the second theme which unfolds with an exploratory sense of excitement. 
          This combination of skittishness and nobility, in all the right proportions, 
          makes for a constantly refreshing reading of this movement, and the 
          cadenza, when it arrives, really catches fire in her hands. The change 
          of key in the final bars still manages to sound surprising, and the 
          slow movement which follows begins with a wonderful statement of the 
          main theme, played with beautiful simplicity by Faust and atmospherically 
          accompanied by Harding and the orchestra. This sets up a partnership 
          that continues for the rest of the movement. The accompaniment of the 
          second variation is particularly special, the mysterious sounds of the 
          orchestra appearing to float in from afar, while Faust’s daredevil 
          runs of the fifth are remarkable. The finale is then full of momentum 
          and pyrotechnics, and they choose the rarely heard original ending of 
          the work that Bartók wrote before Zoltán Székely, 
          the violinist who asked the composer for the work, insisted that he 
          wanted a coda that featured a stronger part for the violin. Here, in 
          Bartók’s original thoughts, the orchestra romps home with 
          a riotous climax featuring trombones that sound as though they have 
          been let loose in a china shop. 
            
          This disc is a winner. The sensitivity of the playing and the empathy 
          of the orchestral accompaniment put it in a very special class which 
          is worthy of comparison with any other set in the catalogue. The most 
          recent pair of the Bartók concertos to come my way was Arabella 
          Steinbacher’s recording with Marek Janowski and the Orchestre 
          de la Suisse Romande. It’s super too, but more extroverted and 
          a touch less sympathetic than this version. So it is to Faust and Harding 
          that I will be returning next time I want to hear these concertos. This 
          disc deserves to win many friends. 
            
          Simon Thompson