These performances were widely admired in their original
issues, on separate CDs with other repertoire, but it seems most sensible
to have the two Shostakovich violin concertos coupled together on a
single CD. Vengerov performs both of them with consummate artistry,
and well did he deserve the accolade of ‘Record of the Year’ which he
gained for the First Concerto on its original release in 1995.
This work is unusual in having two designated opus
numbers, the composer having withdrawn the work around the time of the
1948 Congress of Soviet Composers. At this notorious event the major
figures of Soviet music - Prokofiev, Khachaturian, Miaskovsky, Shostakovich
- were roundly denounced by Stalin's henchman Zhdanov, since the Party
viewed their compositions as examples of 'individualism' and 'bourgeois
decadence'.
It was a full seven years later, two years after Stalin's
death, that the premiere of the concerto took place. The soloist, and
the work's dedicatee, was the legendary David Oistrakh, who had advised
Shostakovich on technical matters relating to the violin part. But while
the music certainly makes many demands on the player's technique, the
expressive qualities of the material always take priority.
Vengerov's performance is likely to be the greatest
since Oistrakh, although in fairness Hilary Hahn has been identified
strongly with the piece quite recently. The music has a wide expressive
and technical range, much of it uncompromisingly slow and introspective.
If anything, this aspect is more demanding for the player than the more
obviously virtuoso fast section. And it is here that the warm and secure
tone of Vengerov really pays dividends. His performance is thoughtful
and deeply felt. Therefore the arrival of the finale is an entirely
logical result of all that has gone before, and for the listener the
experience grows with each hearing. For this is a magnificent work,
revealing the composer at the height of his powers.
The Violin Concerto no. 2 is probably the least familiar
of all the Shostakovich concertos, though it is certainly as fine a
composition as its companions. It was written in 1967, twenty years
after the Concerto no. 1, and was intended as a sixtieth birthday present
for Oistrakh. The composer miscalculated, however, for the dedicatee
was still a mere fifty-nine when he gave the first performance in October
that year.
In its general outlook the score is typical of Shostakovich's
later music, the spare textures reflecting the intensity of feeling
which obsessed him after he had suffered a severe heart attack in 1966.
The meditation with which the Concerto begins sets the tone, just as
the equivalent movement in the Concerto No. 1. Shostakovich described
this theme as the 'betrayal motif', which was possibly a reference to
the harsh Brezhnev regime and its treatment of dissidents who were in
many cases his friends. But soon the despair of this lyrical meditation
transforms the motif into a frenetic, even grotesque, rhythmic activity;
and these somewhat disconcerting shifts of mood, which form a fundamental
aspect of the composer's style, recur throughout the composition. The
sinister pantomime is emphasised by the extremities of the scoring:
at one point the soloist shares a competitive duo with beating tom-toms.
This music is highly charged and a worthy successor
to its illustrious predecessor. Again Vengerov's technique is flawless,
but more important, his understanding of the music is palpable. The
expressive range is effortlessly but meaningfully conveyed, with tempi
expertly thought through, for which all praise to the composer's friend
Mstislav Rostropovich. The LSO are on top form throughout, but inevitably
it is the playing and interpretations of Maxim Vengerov that steal the
show.
Terry Barfoot