Ginastera reveals himself as a natural successor to Paganini (but with more
	profound musical interest) in this ferociously challenging concerto. The
	orchestra is characteristically supplemented and is used like a repertory
	company drawing on different forces for each section. The orchestra is
	supplemented with six different groups of percussion instruments. The strings
	comprise 16 firsts and 16 seconds, 12 violas and 12 cellos with six double
	basses.
	
	Starting as it means to go on it challenges the soloist in the most exposed
	of ways with 4'26" of unaccompanied cadenza. The orchestra then bursts in
	like a wave of chaotic energy blasting and thundering like the strongest
	vitriolic climax by William Schuman. There is plenty of impressively unrelenting
	darting display. Scudding feathery playing rambles over quiet orchestral
	violins intoning an angular melody. The strange squirming microscopic amoeba
	of the andante [6] register strongly. The adagio is the tormented heart of
	the work. The following scherzo pianissimo is a study in strange tonalities
	and scuttling horror. The finale is haunted by ghosts of Paganini 'as if
	the shadow of the great violinist were hovering over the orchestra.' Through
	a fantastic landscape peopled with creatures and weird plants the violin
	rushes headlong as if possessed by a contagious feral panic. The applause
	at the end is sincerely deserved. For all of its toughness this is a work
	of attractions and intrigue.
	
	I first got to hear this work in a no less impressive performance though
	in markedly poorer sound on an off-air tape of a performance by Hyman Bress
	with the Bamberg SO conducted by V Avdrakovitch. The recording capably captures
	the barely audible to the most exultant of clamours. The thirty year age
	of the tape and its analogue origins present no problem; with hiss being
	hardly detectable.
	
	Here the concerto is tracked into 11 segments (8 for the first movement;
	1 for the second and 2 for the final movement) making for ease of access
	and analysis by repeated hearing.
	
	The Sonata was written during Bartók's final year at the Budapest
	Conservatoire. It would have been No 1 but that was accorded to the 1920
	sonata. This could have been a Brucknerian No. 0 but here it is shown as
	simply Op Posth. This is a work of drenched romanticism - not at all the
	Bartók of the Concerto for Orchestra or the later piano concertos
	or violin concerto no 2. The notes claim a Brahmsian romanticism and I would
	agree with that up to a point but it is offset by a fresher folksy nationalism.
	
	What an interesting contrast. The Ginastera is work of the impressively possessed
	avant garde. The Bartok is a work of refulgent romance and glowing lustre.
	I thought (in the Bartók) of the first violin sonata by John Ireland
	and a little of the rather wonderful first sonata by Thomas Dunhill. The
	Hungarian spirit bursts, swirls and floods the scene at II 1.54. A Germanic
	sternness overhangs the Vivace finale. This is plagued by Hungarian fireworks
	and febrile bacchanalian power which relents into restful romance only to
	return centre stage in the Hungarian accents of the succulently dashing closing
	minutes. The finale overstays its welcome and would have been perfect at
	five minutes rather than 8.44.
	
	Those normally off-put by the more forbidding aspects of Bartók must
	hear this piece. It has also been recorded by Susanne Stanzeleit (violin)
	and Gusztáv Fenyö (piano) on ASV CDDCA982 - a recording I have
	not heard. It is coupled on ASV with other pieces of Bartók's chamber
	music. The Ginastera and Bartok coupling make for a tartly satisfying contrast
	and both are works of considerable ambition and, in the case of the Ginastera
	considerable satisfying achievement. To the best of my knowledge this is
	the recording premiere of the Ginastera and as a work it is not otherwise
	available.
	
	Accardo is more than a full match for both works and his technique (and heart)
	is daringly invested in the Ginastera which despite its challenging language
	I commend freely as a work of musical splendours and boundary-liberated
	imagination.
	
	Reviewer
	
	Rob Barnett 
	
	 (Ginastera)
(Ginastera)
	
	 (Bartók)
 (Bartók)