Successful performances
of both Elgar concertos are rare, despite
the eulogistic platitudes accorded by
some critics. It’s true of the violin
concerto, the tensile and reflective
equipoise of which is frequently overbalanced
in the latter direction, and it’s true
of the cello concerto, which can sound
like one long dirge, with a fugitive
scherzo, if not properly characterised
and controlled.
This performance takes
the heavily laden approach. The opening
chords are portentous and drawn out,
there are hushed and not entirely convincing
pianissimos and a species of overwrought
vibrato usage from Li-Wei at 2.20 that
shows that the soloist’s expressive
commitment, whilst passionate, can become
excessive.
The fact of the matter
is that the whole character of this
work has changed over the years. Turn
to Beatrice Harrison with Elgar conducting
(acoustic and electrical recordings)
and to W H Squire with Hamilton Harty
and you will hear a commanding, defiant,
masculine start with expressive material
reflectively projected but without self-pity.
Move forward to the immediate post War
years and you’ll find Anthony Pini,
with van Beinum, equally masculine but
with less obviously emotive gestures.
His was a relatively austere view by
current standards, and certainly judged
against contemporaneous accounts by
Navarra-Barbirolli and the later Fournier-Wallenstein.
The Casals-Boult stands at a slight
remove.
This performance sounds
amorphous by comparison. There are good
things in the scherzo, good passagework
and a perfect tempo but more evidence
of extremes in the slow movement. It’s
a du Pré-Barbirolli (but not
a du Pré-Barenboim) tempo but
vitiated by soloistic over-vibration
and the kind of expressive pointing
that serves to draw the ear away rather
than draw the ear in, not least edge-of-the-seat
ppp. I regret that performers
now seldom if ever make an orchestral
accelerando prefacing the soloist’s
entry in the finale. Elgar did, and
so did Harty, and the lack of rhythmic
steadiness gave a driving, tense feeling
to the music making. Second generation
Elgarians, such as Boult, for Fournier,
and Barbirolli, for Navarra and du Pré,
kept a steady tempo. It’s a shame Landon
Ronald never recorded the concerto as
his performance would have been a talking
point.
Soloists these days
also tend to abjure détaché
bowing in this movement – listen to
both Harrison and Squire who make a
point of it. Modern performers prefer
a kind of adagio-legato approach and
this gives the performance a sense of
same-ness, one that lacks individual
character and colour. I make these comments
specifically of this performance but
I could extend them to many others.
The finale here is soggy and ill defined
and suffers from too elastic a conception;
proper tempo relationships are seldom
apparent. It’s a pity to be negative
about an obviously committed performance
but it’s too wayward and has appropriated
some of du Pré’s approach without
being able to emulate her charismatic
control and tonal nuance.
The companion Sea Pictures
reminds one of the du Pré-Janet
Baker-Barbirolli classic, so often repackaged,
and a boon to EMI’s coffers as well
as to musical posterity. If I turn to
the Gladys Ripley-Philharmonia-George
Weldon recording of 1946 it’s not to
regurgitate historical objections or
to hold up today’s performers to demerit
in the light of past performance practice.
But how much more compact, how much
more sensible are the Ripley-Weldon
tempi, how little tempted they are to
tempo misalignments such as mar this
performance and indeed the Cello Concerto.
The opening song sounds sluggish and
improperly maintained, no matter how
well the orchestral strands are elucidated
(harp, first violins, the basses), and
shows metrics used for maximal expressive
effect at the expense of architectural
cogency. The climax of Sabbath Morning
at Sea fails to register, a result
of too much tempo to-ing and fro-ing
and a lack of opulence and clarion projection
in the voice. Elizabeth Campbell seems
to feel most for the last song, The
Swimmer, where she engages consonants
with crisper definition and colours
vowels with greater commitment but it’s
not enough to save the cycle. The Prelude
to the Kingdom is rather soggy once
more - it should roll forward with cumulative
power.
This is a rather disappointing
recording. I should note that some will
doubtless find its emotive patina more
to their liking than I do. The Ripley
recording of Sea Pictures is on Pearl
coupled with the Nash-Ripley-Noble-Walker-Sargent
Dream of Gerontius, the work’s finest
recording. The Harrison Cello Concerto
is on EMI, the Squire on Pearl. There
are plenty of more modern alternatives;
the Baker for Sea Pictures and for the
oft-recorded Cello Concerto Tortelier-Boult
or Groves, the du Pré-Barbirolli
or Sargent for those who admire it,
or my favourites, the Pini and the two
pre War 78s already mentioned.
Jonathan Woolf
see also review
by Christopher Howell
Li-Wei (cello) (1), Elizabeth
Campbell (mezzo-soprano) (2) 
