I
wondered rhetorically not so long ago how many recordings
of Leonid Kogan's Beethoven concerto one needed. If I implied
not as many as are - or have been - available I'm going to
contradict myself in the case of Kogan's older colleague,
David Oistrakh. There can never be too many Brahms Concerto
recordings with Oistrakh, especially when marshalled by that
accompanist supreme Kirill Kondrashin.
This one was given at the Royal Festival Hall in London in 1963
with the visiting. Moscow Philharmonic Orchestra, who preface
proceedings with a very stirring rendition of the Russian National
Anthem. Collectors will know that the two men had collaborated on
a commercial recording of the concerto. They will also know that many other Oistrakh performances exist
and will doubtless continue to be disinterred from archives
and private collections. Amongst the most prominent obviously,
are the Klemperer, Szell and Konwitschny but there are also
readings with Bruck, Pedrotti and Claudio Abbado.
This
is a powerfully resilient reading, one that holds up well
even in the glacial spotlight of the RFH. Kondrashin is an
expert marshal of texture and a master of flexible rubato,
moulding orchestral paragraphs with wave-like control. Oistrakh's
big tone, so multi-variegated and capable of so many gradations of
colour, had not yet become the more orotund creature of the early
1970s. He plays with masculine eloquence and his accustomed
introspection. True there are a few technical frailties early on
but they are negligible when set against so valuable a feature of
his Brahms playing - its inwardness
and restraint perfectly judged alongside its assertive power
and emotive control. Oistrakh was always one of the most
balanced Brahmsians of his generation, and that's richly
reinforced here.
In
the Double Concerto he's joined by Rostropovich and the same
orchestra and conductor in a Royal Albert Hall performance from
1965. Here the notoriously echo-y properties of the barn are
audible, though the playing soon sweeps one up and away. Oistrakh
is best known here from his recording with Fournier, Galliera and
the Philharmonia in 1959, less so perhaps a reading with
Rostropovich, Szell and the Cleveland. But again collectors will
relish the recording he made with his regular Russian partner
Knushevitzky and the USSR Symphony with Eliasberg. Though I wager
still more will know the Prague 78 set with Milos Sadlo, the Czech Philharmonic and Ančerl.
There's a recording banging around with Ulofsson and the
Swedish Radio Orchestra under Stig Westerberg though I've
never heard it (can anyone oblige?).
I
enjoyed the Albert Hall performance though it doesn't really
displace the slightly more temperate Galliera/Fournier in my
affections. Kondrashin risks some powerful metrical tugging and
for some reason - not yet played in, hall temperature, strings or
whatever - Oistrakh's intonation is not always
spot-on; very unusual for him. Still, they sweep through
the first movement with a powerful and vigorous Ančerl-like
tempo and drive. They don't match the Czech performance -
nor come to that did the native Russian one with Knushevitzky - for
breathless animation in the central movement. Kondrashin
is thoroughly at one with his soloists for the finale, a
splendid exhibition of grace and power held in perfect equilibrium.
A small warning about audience participation. The Double
Concerto performance witnessed a rather bronchial October audience
especially - you might have guessed - in the slow movement.
Otherwise these are excellent adjuncts to better known recordings.
I've not mentioned Rostropovich's Double Concerto history
but you may have the Perlman/Haitink on your shelves. This
BBC one is especially valuable for Kondrashin and the fact
that Oistrakh was always a more probing Brahmsian than Perlman.
Small limitations of sound and passing technical fallibilities
are no bar to a richly enjoyable brace of performances.
Jonathan Woolf
David Oistrakh
(violin) 
