CD1
Johann Sebastian BACH (1685-1750)
Sonata No. 2 in A minor
Partita No. 3 in E major – Prelude
Johann MATTHESON (1681-1764)
Air in B minor
Nicolo PAGANINI (1782-1840)
Variations on Mose
La Campanella
Pablo de SARASATE (1844-1908)
Introduction and Tarantelle
Habanera
Zigeunerweisen
Eugene YSAŸE (1858-1931)
Rêve d’enfant
With variously Carl Fürstner and Louis Persinger (piano)
Recorded 1938 (Bach Sonata, Vox 1940s)
[52.36]
CD2
Piotr Il’yich TCHAIKOVSKY (1840-1893)
Violin Concerto
Eugene YSAŸE (1858-1931)
Sonata No. 4 in E minor
Henryk WIENIAWSKI (1835-1880)
Caprice in A minor
Staccato Etude
Fryderyk CHOPIN (1810-1849)
Nocturne in C sharp minor
With New Symphony orchestra/Malcolm Sargent
Recorded 1946 live in New York except Tchaikovsky Concerto, 1950
[50.11]
CD3
Nicolo PAGANINI (1782-1840)
24 Caprices Op. 1
Recorded 1949
[73.55]
CD4
Ludwig van BEETHOVEN (1770-1827)
Sonata No. 5 in F major Op. 24 Spring
Sonata No. 9 in A major Op. 47 Kreutzer
Claude DEBUSSY (1862-1918)
Violin Sonata
With Eugenio Bagnoli (piano)
No recording date
[64.53]
CD5
Giuseppe TARTINI (1692-1770)
L’Arte dell’ Arco, 60 Variations on a theme by Corelli
Nicolo PAGANINI (1782-1840)
60 Variations on Barucabà
Recorded Salzburg 1995 (Tartini), Salzburg 1996 (Paganini)
[56.04]
CD6
César
FRANCK (181822-1890)
Violin Sonata in A major
Sergei PROKOFIEV (1891-1953)
Violin Sonata in D major Op. 94a
Eugene YSAŸE (1858-1931)
Sonata No. 3 in D minor Op. 27
Nicolo PAGANINI (1782-1840)
Variations on God Save The King Op. 9
Johann Sebastian BACH (1685-1750)
Partita No. 3 in E major BWV 1006 – Gavotte
With Martha Argerich (piano)
Recorded live New York October 1979
[61.18]
CD7
Heinrich Wilhelm ERNST (1814-1865)
Six Polyphonic Studies for solo violin
Henryk WIENIAWSKI (1835-1880)
L’Ecole Moderne: Study Caprices for solo violin Op. 10
Recorded 1983
[68.25]
CD8
Nicolo PAGANINI (1782-1840)
Cantabile in D major
Tarantella in A minor
Nel cor piu non mi sento
Cantabile and Waltz
Sonata No. 1 from Centone de Sonate
Sonata Op. 2 No. 1
Sonata Op. 3 No. 1
Sonata Op. 3 No. 2
Sonata Op. 3 No. 6
Variations on Moses
Variations di bravura
Sonata in A major Op. posth
With Stefano Cardi, guitar
No recording dates
[52.36]
CD9
Pablo de SARASATE (1844-1908)
Pateneras Op. 35
Rumanian Melody
Jota de S Fermin
Miramar (Zortzico) Op. 42
Serenata Andalusa Op. 28
Chansons Russes Op. 49
Jota Aragonesa Op. 27
Adios montanas mias Op. 37
Jota de Pablo Op. 52
Zortzico d’Iparaguirre Op. 39
The Song of the Nightmare Op. 29
Faust Fantasie on themes of Charles Gounod
With Graeme McNaught (piano)
Recorded 1992
[60.55]
CD10
Henry VIEUXTEMPS (1820-1881)
Ballade and Polonaise
Chant d’amour
Désespoir
Souvenir
Rondino
Tarantella
Réverie
Romance
Hommage à Paganini
Innocence
Yankee Doodle
Pianist not noted [Marco Vincenzi?]
Recorded 1995
[65.50]
This gargantuan ten CD box is a welcome homage to Ruggiero
Ricci, born in San Bruno, California in 1918. It’s apt to pay this tribute
to him, especially in the light of his retirement recently (2002), and
this set certainly covers some ground, taking him from his earliest
recordings to a 1996 session of – characteristically – some finger busting
Paganini. Thus the first disc begins with the sessions of 1938 – accompanied
either by his first teacher, Louis Persinger, or the German pianist
Carl Fürstner (in the Berlin sessions) and we end the final, tenth
disc with the breezy gymnastics of the seventy-seven year Ricci in Vieuxtemps.
That first disc captures the twenty-two year old in
strong and commanding form, already imbued with the striking vibrato
by which, tonally, he is to be defined. In Bach’s Second solo Sonata,
with which the set starts – though this is a slightly later recording,
made for Vox in the 1940s - he is perhaps more ear titillating than
truly searching. Unlike his contemporary and fellow Persinger student
Yehudi Menuhin Ricci’s Bach, whilst lacking nothing in tonal projection,
rather lacks philosophical depth. The Prelude from the Third Partita
remained unpublished until first issued on a Biddulph CD and is a robust
and forthright performance. Disappointingly the first CD doesn’t include
all the 1938 discs and at only 52 minutes there was plenty of space
– so the Michael Press arranged Rachmaninov Vocalise isn’t here – one
of the young Ricci’s best discs from the sessions. What remains however
is a fine slew of virtuoso showpieces – sinewy vibrato in Paganini’s
Variations on Mosè, devilish panache in La Campanella, a cholesterol
rich Sarasate Introduction and Tarantella, a truly swaggering Habanera
but also, often overlooked, the rapt simplicity of his Mattheson Air
in B and the lyric intensity and expressive nuance of Ysaye’s Rêve
d’enfant. Zigeunerweisen, the warhorse of warhorses, has some daredevil
attack in the Allegro molto vivace section and is a powerfully propulsive
and energized performance somewhat vitiated here by Dynamic’s clumsy
side joins; treating it as a Sonata they band it in four movements –
try not to listen for two seconds between the Lento and un poco piu
lento sections.
Disc Two takes us forward in time to the immediate
post War period and is especially valuable for the live New York Town
Hall and Carnegie Hall performances of 1946 and 47. There are some acetate
thumps in the Ysaye Sonata – the fourth, dedicated to Kreisler – but
otherwise things are in reasonable aural shape. I’ve never come across
this before or the Wieniawski and Chopin items, so bravo to Dynamic
for including them. The Ysaye has intensity and the Sarabande’s pizzicato
episode is handled with scintillating expertise, as are the difficult
harmonics. In the concluding Finale he brings a little exotica to his
tone – a little Sarasate – and whilst this is not absolutely "clean"
playing – the passagework can be rough – it’s profoundly energized.
So fiery is it indeed that very premature applause breaks out – caught
out by Ricci’s incendiary playing. His Wieniawski Caprice, from the
same concert, again has some sticky passagework but is wonderfully propulsive.
The Chopin Nocturne from a Carnegie Hall recital from October 1947 is
rather more muscular than that of, say, an aristocrat such as Milstein
but his Wieniawski Staccato Etude comes with fearless technique and
dash. The meat of this disc is the Tchaikovsky Concerto of 1950, the
first of his two recordings of this with Malcolm Sargent. Extrovert,
forthright, complete with the then expected textual emendations this
is a most persuasive traversal. His vibrato is exceptionally fast though
not with the same degree of oscillation that could later mar some of
his excursions into the romantic repertory. His rubati in the first
movement are maybe over studied – very much a matter of taste, this,
but I find them somewhat over-theatrical - but elsewhere he is vibrant
without becoming sentimentalized and apart from some passing smeary
passagework and an intonational slip in the finale this is a commanding
performance. Sargent, as so often, accompanies with intuitive understanding.
With the third disc we come to Paganini’s Caprices,
the first set to be recorded in their authentic form – without the incrustation
of the spurious though not unmusical piano accompaniment. Decca’s acoustic
was not overly sensitive to the violinist but Ricci’s fearless bravado
triumphed over such trifling problems. Whilst Ricci has built up a commanding
reputation as a virtuoso gymnast of the first order these are not technically
unimpeachable performances though the extent to which they fall from
grace in this respect is trivial when set against such stunning playing.
In the Octaves study, No. 3, his vibrato is obtrusively prominent –
against which one can note that the melody in the Thirds study is scrupulously
maintained, that the Fifth Caprice is magnetic, and that Ricci at all
times manages to sustain the contrastive properties of these exceptionally
complex pieces with an intense vibrancy and musicality. Disc Four brings
us the first of Ricci the Sonata partner. With the fine Italian pianist,
Eugenio Bagnoli, in an undated performance they essay the Spring
and Kreutzer Sonatas as well as that of Debussy. Ricci’s repertoire
is so vast that one forgets that he is an adept at the core literature.
Bagnoli is rather backwards in the aural perspective here, which is
inclined to be rather swampy anyway, but otherwise acquits himself well,
even though Ricci is inclined to cover him in the balance – which is
no fault of Bagnoli’s. Ricci isn’t really relaxed or sunny enough in
the Spring – and is inclined to be too tense and metrical in
the first movement as well as playing a little sharp here and there
and dropping a few notes. His phrasing can also be rather matter of
fact when judged by the highest standards. The slow movement is attractive
and not over emoted, the scherzo not quite cast iron and still some
technical slips from the violinist in the finale – which receives quite
a solid performance. The Debussy is again rather over robust but Ricci’s
bowing is in itself commendable in the Allegro vivo. Some succulent
phrasing warms the central movement before some more strong playing
in the finale; not in the Grumiaux league though. The Kreutzer is
the one work here that most suits Ricci’s bold, slashing style. He makes
the occasional very dramatic diminuendo and his passagework can be somewhat
untidy but this is a bristling and forthright traversal with a decent
variational second movement – albeit one sporting a few more finger
slips and intonational worries. Bagnoli comes into his own in the finale,
driving some powerful left hand accents; neither man is much inclined
to linger over the view. I’m not sure as to the provenance of this recital
– of which none of the works feature in his commercial discography to
the best of my knowledge – but it sounds very much like an audience
microphone affair. Whatever the origin – and it doesn’t sound like a
broadcast to me – the recital reveals some limitations in Ricci the
sonata recitalist, in terms of ensemble balance, apposite tensile strength,
conception and execution.
Number Five takes us to the most recent of the recordings,
dating from 1995 and 1996. Though it’s idle to pretend that he has emerged
technically unscathed from a long career and from the ravages of time
Ricci’s Tartini and Paganini are excellent examples of his latter day
playing and of his musical impulses in general. He has always been an
inveterately inquisitive musician – would that more of his colleagues
followed suit – and sought out much solo work other players would have
dismissed as arcane, showy or plain unmusical. Ricci shows that it’s
not necessarily so. The Tartini L’Arte dell’ Arco – sixty variations
on a theme of Corelli - will be familiar from Kreisler’s appropriation
of some choice passages for his own pastiche composition along the same
lines. Splendidly virtuosic, legendary cornerstones of the violin literature
– but how seldom explored – Ricci brings technical eloquence and liveliness
to these pieces as well as a welcome cleanliness in his attacks that
more than does justice to Tartini. Equally the Sixty variations on Barucabà
receive a scintillating reading – not immaculate but searingly alive;
the Salzburg recordings are lifelike and effective.
With the Sixth CD – over half way now – we return to
Ricci the Recitalist – and this time paired with a musician of commensurate
stature, the equally combustible Martha Argerich. The acoustic for their
joint 1979 Carnegie Hall recital is rather opaque and unflattering.
They begin with the Franck Sonata, a highly dangerous work to play if
ensemble is not of the strongest. Argerich begins very slowly, Ricci
takes up a quicker tempo and they drive through the first movement reasonably;
there’s drama but also sensitivity in the second movement – with Ricci’s
oscillatory vibrato pretty much under control albeit there is some virtuosic
skating over of some of the passagework. Argerich is sometimes chordally
rather declamatory in the Allegretto finale and makes some sweltering
runs but the balance at the end goes utterly haywire with Argerich overpowering
Ricci who sounds, if not intimidated, at least somewhat powerless to
force his tone. Two powerhouse performers in a hothouse sonata and in
the end not a true meeting of minds. I liked the Prokofiev rather more;
it requires less work. Light-hearted and easy going there’s a deal of
fluency from both players and some introspective lyricism especially
in the third movement Andante – one can forget an uncomfortable moment
in the finale as a heat of the moment affair. The rest of the disc is
devoted to Ricci’s solo items from that 1979 recital: the third Ysaye
sonata is broadly in line with his Vox LP of the set of six – this one
was dedicated to Enescu – and in the increasingly rowdy atmosphere in
august Carnegie Hall (Ricci could certainly raise the temperature) he
announces the Paganini God Save The King variations to tumultuous laughter.
Yes, his intonation buckles here and there, yes this is a wildly outrageous
piece and performance, but those pizzicatos are fearless and delighted
anticipatory applause breaks out even before he launches the left hand
pizzicato passage. As one would expect after this the audience go delirious
with delight. A generous performance of the Gavotte from Bach’s third
Partita ends the recital.
The final discs are now devoted exclusively to violin-virtuoso
composers - Wieniawski, Ernst, Paganini, Sarasate and Vieuxtemps. Ernst
is now so little played and recorded he seems almost entirely to have
receded into the race memory of violin gymnasts such as Ricci. The Moravian
composer is pitifully represented in the catalogues but it’s not surprising
when he is probably known best for the sixth and final of his Polyphonic
Studies for solo violin (and the piece he dedicated to Bazzini), the
outrageous Last Rose of Summer variations. Once again Ricci’s intonation
strays here and there in these devastatingly difficult works and he
can struggle a little technically as well – as for example at the top
of the register in the third Study but he copes with the Last Rose and
also with Wieniawski’s little but tricky Study Caprices. The Paganini
album – No. 8 – is for violin and guitar, played with suggestive support
by Stefano Cardi. These are broadly lyrical and affectionate pieces,
some culled from the Sonatas, and full of melodic grace. The Cantabile
in D major is dispatched with affectionate ease, the whistling section
of Nel cor piu nicely caught – and sustained – tone production good
in the Waltz and lyricism aplenty in the Minuet and Adagio of the First
Sonata of the Op. 2 set. Charm is a strong suit of Ricci’s when he cares
to deploy it and deploy it he does in abundance in the opening of the
Op. 3 No. 2 Sonata and his effortless lyricism is heard to captivating
advantage in the Andante of the Op. 3 No. 6 work. His harmonics are
fearless in the Bravura Variations – No. beating around the bush by
Paganini – and the whole recital a joy from beginning to end.
When it comes to Sarasate Ricci is equally a master
of the virtuoso syntax. How superbly he conveys the sense of the lyric
direction of a phrase in the Rumanian Melody and how splendid is the
clarity of his articulation, extrovert but not too forced, in the Serenata
Andalusa. Fancy some pungent scintillation? Try Ricci’s Jota de Pablo
– vibrant, red hot, rhythmically flexible, a real he-man of the violin
world in action. And then comes the unsettled shimmering intangibility
of the uneasily titled The Song of the Nightmare. Graeme McNaught is
the excellent accompanist in this 1992 recital. The final disc gives
us Vieuxtemps and a little conundrum – No. pianist is listed. I’ve assumed
it was Marco Vincenzi but I stand to be corrected and Dynamic should
make amends as soon as possible. I also think there’s a cut in the Ballade
and Polonaise and something has gone badly wrong with the timing on
this track and with the tracking of subsequent pieces – the Polonaise
is actually separately banded but the sleeve details don’t show it and
all subsequent tracks are thus one track out. Which will come as a shock
if you want to hear the delicate Innocence and instead are confronted
by the rudery of the Yankee Doodle variations. Nevertheless despite
the production slippage in this final disc – disappointing – there’s
still Ricci in commanding form – full of loping charm in the Rondino,
lyric intensity in the Reverie, and coping with the endless cadenza
that is Vieuxtemps’ tribute to Paganini, his Hommage à Paganini.
And, not without reason, certainly not without justice, the recital
and the disc and the set ends with the high jinks of Yankee Doodle,
a fitting end to a celebratory box that honours its subject with a degree
of open mindedness and style.
Not everything here is clean as a whistle and fluent
– that’s just not Ricci’s way. There are frailties and weakness and
blind spots. The sonata recitals are hardly models of consistency. There
is a lot of apparently academic disinterment of violin studies, which
may not be to the general taste. But it’s to Ricci’s taste and that’s
what matters. He has ploughed his own furrow and sought freedom and
satisfaction in ways other fiddle players would never think of searching
out. He has lived dangerously – tonally, expressively – and survived.
His vibrancy may not be to all tastes and equally convincing in all
of the repertoire but it is unmistakably Ricci and passionately alive.
So here’s a salute to Ruggiero Ricci – a ten CD box full of some coruscating
delights.
Jonathan Woolf
DYNAMIC CDS 393/1-10