What a range of transfer techniques Naxos seem to be 
          using. Having praised their Moiseiwitch and protested vigorously about 
          their Schnabel (Beethoven Concertos 3-5), praise seems in order here 
          again. Some swish remains and it sounds a little as if Mark Obert-Thorn’s 
          method is simply to put the discs on a period player with a fibre needle 
          and record them like that. If so, there could be worse ways of doing 
          it. Beecham’s orchestra sounds a little crumbly but the violin is somehow 
          lifted from the context and has a wonderful speaking quality. Strangely, 
          the slightly earlier Beethoven recording is better still, with fuller 
          orchestral sound. Though I was born well into the LP era, there were 
          still people around in the late fifties who had only 78 equipment (just 
          as some today have not yet got into CDs) and this is the 78 sound as 
          I remember it. 
        
The career of Joseph Szigeti (1892-1973) lasted a little 
          too long for its own good and in my college days his name was a by-word 
          for slovenly, swoopy, portamento-ridden playing. In vain did our elders 
          and betters tell us that his playing was far different in his prime, 
          but, as can be heard here, our elders and betters were quite right. 
        
In terms of portamenti there’s not much to offend 
          modern ears and I can think of some present-day practitioners who might 
          well use more, even in Mozart and Beethoven. When I said above that 
          the recording gives his violin a wonderful speaking quality, it was 
          implicit that this quality came first of all from the violinist, and 
          it is above all for the very human, vocal manner of his playing that 
          these performances are valuable. I was surprised to find Tully Potter, 
          in his informative notes, turning critic and commenting that "Truth 
          to tell, Beecham, the supposed Mozart lover, serves up an accompaniment 
          that is brusque in some places and slapdash in others". Frankly, 
          I could only find admiration for the lightness of touch which with which 
          Beecham supports Szigeti in tempi which (especially in the last movement) 
          could all too easily have lapsed into heaviness. I think the main theme 
          in the last movement really is too slow for an Allegro, for all the 
          performers’ grace, but otherwise this is a beautiful performance. 
        
I’m not so sure about the Beethoven. Certainly, Szigeti’s 
          speaking quality gives a meaning to many passages where it sometimes 
          seems that the violinist is practising his arpeggios while the orchestra 
          plays a tune, but it doesn’t quite all add up. Both Szigeti and Walter 
          change tempi fairly freely, not necessarily at the same points with 
          the result that the first movement appears to be a rather sprawling 
          structure. On the other hand, they do seem to respond to each other 
          at least on a phrase-by-phrase basis and the performance has the spontaneity 
          and humanity for which both artists were renowned. Perhaps it is better 
          to view this as a snapshot of a great violinist playing the Beethoven 
          rather than a great performance of the Beethoven. 
        
Myths are funny things. There are some early recordings 
          which really do seem not to have been matched artistically since, there 
          myths which require imaginative listening to understand what the fuss 
          was really about, there are others again which don’t confirm their legendary 
          status at all. This is really none of these. It would seem to suggest 
          that fine performances then and fine performances now were not so unrecognisably 
          different. "Great performers" in the popular mind is sometimes 
          synonymous with "dead performers". Yet a comparison of this 
          with recent versions by, say Perlman (to choose one out of many) would 
          tend to suggest there is more community and continuity of feeling between 
          the public of the 1930s and our own nearly three-quarters of a century 
          later than we might suppose. And it’s marvellous that such well-sounding 
          recordings exist to prove the point. 
        
 
        
        
Christopher Howell