Canadian violinist James Ehnes writes in the booklet for this
release about how special making these recordings has been to
him. The expressive warmth and synergy between soloist, orchestra
and conductor is startlingly apparent from the beginning. Ehnes
also admits to their being ‘tremendously difficult’, which is
something relevant to the orchestra as well as the soloist,
as evidenced by the ‘on the edge’ horns 7:07 into the first
movement of the first concerto – in fact the only very minor
smudge I spotted on this set of marvellously presented performances.
You may think these recordings have been ‘cut’ very low to start
with, but the huge width of the dynamic range in the recording
demands caution with the volume control. The orchestral sonorities
open out beautifully in that opening Adagio sostenuto,
and the punchy rhythms of the following Allegro giocoso shock
you out of the reverie in an instant. This is playing of the
first order. I’m not ashamed to say there were always moments
in all of these concertos which brought a tear to my eye, and
I remember experiencing similar emotions just reading the manuscript
pages visible under glass when I dropped by the Bartók museum
in Budapest many years ago. This recording has me discovering
all kinds of new places where the emotions churn and my diminutive
sense of scale as a creative person is once more rammed into
perspective.
The Violin Concerto No. 2 is a central work in all senses
of the word, and Ehnes plays with authority and strength as
well as poetic and lyrical sensitivity. His violin on this recording
is a 1715 Stradivarius, the “Marsick”, which on its own doesn’t
mean much, but the purity of the high tones in the sound is
remarkably fine. The balance between soloist and orchestra is
also good: somewhat idealised in favour of Ehnes if imagining
a concert-hall experience but not stretching credibility too
much and mostly very well in proportion. The Andante tranquillo
of the second movement always makes me melt on the spot,
and I admire Ehnes’s restraint here, giving the notes a confidingly
conversational quality rather than imposing extra layers of
lyricism. The subdued drama in this movement is a different
world in this recording, and the word ‘moving’ hardly does it
justice. The way this movement ends is some of the most wonderful
music you will ever hear.
Commissioned by legendary Scottish violist William Primrose,
the Viola Concerto remained incomplete when Bartók died
in 1945. The edition used here is that by Tibor Serly, the first
to make a complete version and, as a musician closest to the
composer, considered the most authoritative. The more earthy
tones of the viola tell most in the lower registers as you would
imagine, but in the upper range the 1793 Guadagnini instrument
is closer to a violin sound than you might expect. Touches in
the music are a reminder of another of Bartók’s last works,
the superb Concerto for Orchestra, but with searching
explorations of the enigmatic theme in the first movement this
is a more introspective experience. This is a more ‘tricky’
piece than the violin concerti, but the orchestra has tremendous
fun with its little filigree corners, and the momentary changes
of mood are taken with utter commitment.
There are a few alternatives about for this set of concertos,
and I have a good deal of affection for Yehudi Menuhin’s earthily
honest recordings with Antal Dorati, now available on EMI Gemini
with the two Rhapsodies and a few other duos and the solo Sonata.
Menuhin’s vibrato does sound a bit dated now, and his intonation
in the very upper reaches is a bit vague at times when compared
with Ehnes, but the Hungarian feel of the orchestral rhythms
is compelling. I also have a good deal of time for Midori and
Zubin Mehta on Sony Classical, and Josef Suk’s recording of
the first concerto with the Berg concerto is another old favourite.
With well written and informative booklet notes by Paul Griffiths
this release is the total package when it comes to Bartók’s
violin and viola concerti. The BBC Philharmonic plays its heart
out for Gianandrea Noseda, as they did for the excellent piano
concertos CD (see review).
All further comment aside, this is one of my discs of the year.
Dominy Clements
See also review by Nick
Barnard