Unlike the Piano Concertos,
which span the composer’s full (though
admittedly short) career, the Violin
Concertos are the work of the young
Mozart, and written in his late teens.
In saying that, I am excepting the wonderful
Sinfonia Concertante of four or five
years later, which is very much a work
of his extraordinary maturity, and happily
included here. Not included here - but
then the set doesn’t pretend to be complete
- are the additional movements for violin
and orchestra - the suave but spirited
1776 replacement for the finale to the
B flat Concerto; the elegant substitute
Adagio (also 1776) for the A major
Concerto; and the isolated 1781 Rondo
in C major, K373. It’s a pity that these
interesting pieces - half an hour’s
worth? - have been omitted from this
project, especially as there’s plenty
of room remaining on the discs for them.
Never mind! What we’ve
got here is undoubtedly major Mozart.
Anyone unaware of the treasures hidden
in this repertory should not hesitate
to investigate! Prodigiously talented
youngsters - Mendelssohn and Korngold,
perhaps - often come up with beautifully
crafted and memorable music, but seldom
challenge convention, or have you wondering
what on earth lies round the next corner.
But Mozart does! Who else would turn
the contemporary convention of a soloist’s
first statement being a scalic flourish
or two (before stating the material
we’ve already heard in the orchestra)
into a miraculously beautiful Adagio,
midway between bustling Allegros, as
Mozart does in the opening movement
of the A major Concerto? Who else would
resist the convention for rumbustious
tonics and dominants by way of noisy
ending, and instead leave the music
delightfully mid-air - just oboes and
horns, the soloist and the rest of the
orchestra merely watching - as Mozart
does in the finale of the G major
Concerto? These, and a thousand more
delights, await you!
Shlomo Mintz has always
impressed me as one of the most completely
reliable and rounded artists we have.
He has a wide repertory, sounds like
velvet, and possesses a phenomenal technique.
And he allows music to speak for itself
without intervening or imposing his
will upon it. Indeed, he seldom if ever
disappoints.
Given these expectations,
I’m sorry to say that this set comes
perilously near to being disappointing.
There’s much beautiful playing, and
there’s a carefree quality which is
most engaging. I use the word ‘carefree’
intentionally and advisedly. At best,
this music-making reflects the sense
of fun and the youthful vigour of its
composer, without a care in the world:
and this is truly infectious. On the
other hand, some articulation, phrasing
and textures are less than perfectly
finished, suggesting an almost casual
(indeed careless) approach which,
these days, is surely less than we have
a right to expect.
Some of the playing
- and I include the English Chamber
Orchestra in this observation, fine
musicians though they are - sounds,
dare I say it, routine. Steady tempi
don’t always help: the Turkish elements
in the A major’s Rondo sound positively
polite, and the Rondo of the D major
is laid back to the point of sounding
tired.
One of my pet irritations
with string players is that they can,
if inattentive to the lie of a phrase,
undo the sense of a phrase’s rising
and falling by allowing the tone to
wax where it should wane, or vice
versa. This can happen if the bow’s
moving in the wrong direction, or when
the player doesn’t try hard enough to
limit the natural tendencies of an up-bow
to intensify tone (and a down-bow to
relax tone) when the shape of the phrase
clearly demands the opposite! Interestingly,
and unsurprisingly, singers and wind
players seldom exhibit this ‘fault’:
their inhaling and exhaling is usually
precisely what the phrase warrants!
Mintz, it seems to
me, sometimes falls into this trap.
And, once or twice, he seems more concerned
to give the orchestra a clear lead at
the beginning of a tutti than
to finish his own phrase properly. Some
of his articulation is plain odd! The
groups of four semiquavers which form
part of the G major Concerto’s opening
theme are played as detached groups
(you can almost hear what would be a
quintuplet semiquaver rest at the end
of each!) which disrupts the flow of
the line. You could say the same for
the slurred pairs of notes which form
the slow movement theme of the A major:
breaking them up as Mintz does is mannered
in a self-important way, which I find
irritating! And the playful drum-like
semiquavers in the G major Concerto’s
finale - I’m referring to the second
idea - are played ‘on’ the string, and
with anything but the spiccato
(‘off’ the string) effect Mozart surely
intended, thereby under-characterising
this most delicate of musical ideas.
I have to say the Sinfonia
Concertante fares rather well. There’s
much beautiful playing here, with Mintz
- as so often with violinists turned
temporary violists - Menuhin, Kennedy,
Zuckerman - excelling himself. Although
the slow movement sounds marvellously
dark, and the dialogue of the two soloists
is compelling, I wish they could agree
more on how exactly to phrase and shape
the material they share! Maybe it doesn’t
matter that, as in a ‘human’ conversation,
one says one thing and the other says
something very slightly different? But
I’m pretty sure that the first objective
of most musicians in such music is to
ensure absolute consistency of any recurring
musical detail. Listen to the Iona Brown
recording on Chandos - my benchmark
in this oft-recorded piece - and ask
yourself which works more persuasively!
Don’t get me wrong:
there’s much to admire here. My criticisms,
if such they be, should be judged by
the highest of standards and expectations.
These are enjoyable but flawed - intermittently
flawed - performances. And they’re recorded
in a warm but detailed acoustic. For
similarly ‘traditional’ performances,
try Dumay on DG - but the 3rd, 4th and
5th Concertos only. Or, at knock-down
price, the Pamela Frank set on Arte
Nova, with Zinman’s colourful and energetic
accompaniments. Alternatively, among
lots of cheap re-issues, there’s Standage
and Hogwood on Oiseau-Lyre - a rather
strident ‘ancient music’ edge to his
sound, admittedly, but beautifully polished
and amiable performances. And there’s
always Grumiaux, that most musical of
all violinists, on Philips Duo. I’m
afraid all this ‘competition’ is a notch
or two ahead of Mintz. And I say that,
despite being a life-long admirer of
his playing.
The notes are excellent.
Indeed, they are exemplary - musicologically
and technically informative, admirably
detailed but thoroughly readable: and
it’s easy to dip in to find what you’re
looking for. Full marks for this at
least!
Peter J Lawson
Shlomo Mintz (violin; viola); English Chamber
Orchestra, dir. Shlomo Mintz, with *Hagai Shaham
(violin), John Anderson (oboe) and Josephine
Knight (cello) 
