The theme of the twenty-first 
                volume in Symposium’s thankfully unbroken 
                series of Great Violinists is Spain. 
                Sarasate of course, is one of the progenitors; 
                one of the great figures in recorded 
                history whose ten sides are so much 
                a totemic rock of any collection. But 
                also Juan Manén (1883-1971), 
                the greatest Catalan fiddler of his 
                generation, born in Barcelona, who made 
                his Carnegie Hall debut at fifteen and 
                was the first to record the Beethoven 
                Violin Concerto – beating the better 
                known Isolde Menges by a short head. 
              
 
              
The Sarasates are hardly 
                newcomers and I don’t really have a 
                huge amount to add, materially and descriptively. 
                But to those unfamiliar with his lightning 
                fast Bach, or elsewhere the slow sporadically 
                applied vibrato (try Miramar-Zortico) 
                or the fabulous pizzicatos that dazzle 
                in Caprice Basque, or the pellucid but 
                lyrically reduced playing of the Chopin, 
                then the historical importance of these 
                ten sides cannot be overstressed. 
              
Pearl have issued them 
                over the years and Testament have also 
                issued a double CD devoted to great 
                violinists which is a repackaging and 
                enlarging of the optimistically titled 
                double LP set issued in the mid 1980s 
                – it was Volume 1 ... and Volume 2 never 
                appeared. Comparison with the splendidly 
                all inclusive Pearl sets devoted to 
                the history of the Violin on record 
                – which didn’t include all the Sarasates 
                – shows that these Symposiums are quieter, 
                have utilised copies in better condition 
                but also have somewhat less presence. 
                I’ve not been able to sample the Testament 
                set, which would be the acid test for 
                those wanting all the Sarasates. 
              
 
              
Manén was a 
                very old-fashioned player. For someone 
                born between Thibaud (1880) and Sammons 
                (1886) his style harks back to the aesthetics 
                of a pre-Kreislerian. It doesn’t help 
                that he’s saddled with a brassy oom-pah 
                accompaniment in the Berlin studios. 
                His vibrato is slow, unwarmed and on/off, 
                the salon-slides predictable and gauche 
                (Drdla), and the playing very small 
                scale (Wieniawski). When it comes to 
                the finale of the Mendelssohn, in which 
                he was discographically at least taking 
                a leaf out of Ysaÿe’s book – his 
                Columbia was recorded a few years earlier 
                – we find that he really rushes, applies 
                some juddering rallentandi, and that 
                his conception is elastic to a remarkable 
                degree. Ysaÿe once admitted he’d 
                sped up at the end of the side to fit 
                the finale onto one 12" side but 
                his mastery was one to which the Catalan 
                simply couldn’t aspire. And yet there 
                are felicitous and delightful touches 
                not least in the Daquin and Paradies 
                and they show why he was an admired 
                player in the first quarter of the twentieth 
                century. He did play on but had long 
                been eclipsed by successive schools 
                of vibrant tonalists. 
              
 
              
Manén hasn’t 
                been well served by reissues so these 
                Ankers and Parlophones are valuable 
                to have under one roof. There’s some 
                wear and blasting here and there, particularly 
                in the obbligato performances where 
                he accompanies soprano Hedwig Francillo-Kaufmann. 
                Otherwise these are honest transfers. 
                Notes are more so-so but they do cover 
                the biographical material well – but 
                this is the kind of issue that calls 
                for some comments on style and performance 
                practice. 
              
 
              
Jonathan Woolf