Don’t
pass by this disc if you’re a Martinů
completist because it neatly couples
the Concerto and Concertino for
trio and orchestra. These are not negligible
works, though they were both written
in rapid succession in 1933. The former
in particular is an especial rarity
and I’ve only ever encountered a recording
by the Göbel Trio.
Cast in
four busy movements, it has that typical
Martinů concerto grosso feel, and
one that relaxes and releases some delightful
solo and ensemble interplay. Try the
legato violin over insouciant cello
pizzicato in the first movement for
example. The Andante opens with
a long piano introduction and when the
string instruments enter they collectively
cultivate considerable drive accompanied
by some melting harmonies in the orchestra.
The Scherzo is the most forward-looking
of the movements, active and virile,
whilst the finale is a puckish jaunt
of a Moderato.
It makes for canny
listening to contrast this with the
Concertino. Though better known it’s
not necessarily an obviously superior
work though there’s nothing in the Concerto
quite to match the slinky fugato of
the Moderato second movement or the
active figuration of the Adagio. And
whereas his solution in the finale of
the Concerto was a puckish medium tempo
one, in the Concertino he decided –
correctly – to end with a lissom and
driving Allegro, splendidly balanced
for the instruments and played here
with real verve.
The other two works
are ones central to the Martinů
discography. The Rhapsody-Concerto,
one of his most open-hearted and immediately
winning works - it also happens to be
one of my favourites - is played by
Tabea Zimmermann. Conlon leads Günter
Wand’s old orchestra with considerable
command and negotiates
some of the trickier paragraphs of this
deceptive work with success. Even so
neither he nor Zimmermann quite matches
the naturalness of expression evinced
in the classic Mály/Smetáček Panton
disc of 1979 or, more recently, the
Pěruška/Kučera on Artesmon.
Those who have the Josef Suk/Neumann
on Supraphon should know that the Zimmermann/Conlon
reading is tighter, fleeter and quicker
all round. It means that there’s a very
slightly disjunct turning of lyric corners
but the benefits are those of the soloist’s
warm and attractive tone and the fine,
very clear recording. It’s a more than
agreeable reading and comes near the
top of the available competition.
Lidice is probably
the best known of the quartet of works
and rarely fails to make a powerful
impression either
on disc or in concert. Conlon directs
a characteristically good performance
though you’ll have to efface memories
of the 1957 Ančerl. This isn’t
to say that it’s at all poor, rather
that it can’t hope to match that older
recording’s immediacy and ominously
ratcheted tensile drive; Ančerl
really rasps and coils and he is the
lodestar for this work, managing to
instil and maintain optimum tension
from the first to the last note.
But I don’t want to
end on a less than wholehearted note.
This is an excellently constructed and
very useful addition to the discography.
It’s also got the advantage of a first
rate recording and there are some equally
classy performances.
Jonathan Woolf
see also review
by Rob Barnett