The
name of Ward Marston on the cover of a reissue disc with old
78s or, for that matter, early vinyl LPs, is normally a guarantee
of high technical quality. This well-filled CD with 65–70+ year
old recordings is no exception. He has cleaned the originals
and lifted the instruments “out in the open” so that even the
most die-hard opponents of the idea of listening to “those scratchy
old things” should be able to enjoy the music without being
distracted by technical shortcomings. Actually, even my wife
who has been allergic to my favourite 78s since we first met,
can now sit through a short listening session without having
a break-down. Until not long ago she invariably left the room
whenever a Caruso or Gigli or Schnabel was within eyesight.
Still it has to be admitted that the violin poses some problems,
due to the high frequencies that the old recording technique
had problems registering. There is also the failure to render
the even higher frequencies of the overtones, the lack of which
makes the instrument sound even thinner and more wiry in tone.
Ward Marston has done what is possible to accomplish with the
material available and the result is admirable. However he can’t
produce the missing overtones from nowhere so – with all respect
– the violin tone is thin and tends to disappear in the
very highest register. The recording of the piano tone is considerably
more natural. I hasten to add, though, that you very soon get
used to the sonic limitations and that is a compliment to Marston
as well as the musicians and the composer. After a few bars
I was wholly engrossed in the performances and remained so for
the rest of five quarters of an hour.
Yehudi
Menuhin (1916–1999) was one of the most fabulous musicians of
the 20th century and he enjoyed a career that lasted
longer than most. He made his official debut – at the age of
8! – in 1924 and was active right up to the end of his life;
a time span of 75 years! When he recorded the oldest item on
this disc, the “Kreutzer” sonata, in 1934 he had a ten-year-career
behind him. And he was far from a beginner in the recording
studio either. At the age of 12 he set down, among other things,
Novacek’s Perpetuum mobile and that recording,
together with other juvenilia, is hopefully still available
on Biddulph LAB 032. He recorded the Elgar concerto at 16 with
the composer conducting. According to legend Elgar said to him
after thirty bars’ rehearsal: “I can add nothing. It cannot
be done better. You need not work on it any longer and let’s
go to the races instead.”
So
Yehudi – or Lord Menuhin as he became in due time – had a lot
of experience when he entered EMI’s Studio 3 that November day
in 1934 together with his 14-year-old sister to record the Kreutzer
sonata, the most virtuosic of Beethoven’s ten sonatas. That
there are two young musicians before the microphone is obvious
from the outset. There is enthusiasm, intensity, risk-taking
and that un-definable freshness that gradually disappears when
you have played a piece a hundred times. There is beauty, there
is technical assurance, the double-stops are executed to perfection,
phrasing is excellent and it is just as impressive to hear the
mature playing of sister Hephzibah. This was recorded in the
very beginning of their partnership which lasted until her death
in 1981 and it is interesting to compare this version to the
one they made 25 years later, also for HMV. The sound is of
course fuller but the interpretation is surprisingly little
changed. Tempos are practically identical, the later version
playing straight through a few seconds shorter per movement.
The basic concept is also the same. What differs is that the
middle-aged artists play with even more confidence, with the
same intensity but with lighter accents which makes the sonata
feel like an entity, more seamless. However the differences
are marginal.
Yehudi
Menuhin went on to make two more recordings of the Kreutzer
with other pianists. In 1969 he recorded all the sonatas for
DG with veteran Wilhelm Kempff and in 1979, back on EMI, he
did it with his son Jeremy. I haven’t heard either of those,
but they had good reviews when they were first issued. Both
are still in the catalogues.
Returning
to the thirties and the darker-hued C minor sonata, recorded
four years after the Kreutzer, it is possible to hear that the
teens have matured. The first movement is bold, the beautiful
Adagio cantabile, one of Beethoven’s loveliest creations, glows
with a hushed intensity and a warmth of tone in the violin that
is quite exceptional. The scherzo whizzes along at a break-neck
speed and feels rushed. Was there a need to get it onto a 78
side? The finale is powerful and all through the sonata one
feels the rapport between the two players. This is duo music
at its best. Listening to Sir Yehudi, as he was when recording
this sonata with Kempff (he was knighted in 1965), we again
notice differences, and here in his mid-fifties with Kempff
approaching 75, the music-making has mellowed. The glow is there
but it is as seen through a veil. Here also the tempo differences
are noticeable. The outer movements are considerably slower
in 1969 and considering the scherzo adding another forty seconds
to the bare three minutes playing time in 1938, changes the
whole composition. I don’t think it is inappropriate to label
the later version as meditative. The slow movement is just as
beautifully played in both versions and here the later recording
is actually the faster.
As
fillers we get the Beethoven G major Rondo played at a rollicking
tempo, and Schubert’s too seldom heard Rondo brilliant, a quite
substantial piece that is a perfect vehicle for the Menuhins.
The playing is “brilliant”, to say the least.
No
one with the slightest interest in good violin playing should
hesitate to acquire this disc. The sonic limitations can easily
be overlooked and honestly, when making my comparisons with
the later recordings I was sometimes not even sure which one
I was listening to. As a first and only recording of these sonatas
you should perhaps get something more modern, but I am certain
that this disc will give lots of pleasure for years to come.
Göran Forsling
see also Review
by Jonathan Woolf