This recording was released in November 2001, and is available
as a CD and MP3 download from the Deutsche Grammophon website.
I don’t remember much fuss being made at the time, other than
that in some circles David Garrett was soon to become labelled
as classical music’s David Beckham. The sultry headshots in the
booklet do nothing to dispel this image, but despite destroying
his valuable violin during a nasty fall at the Barbican Centre
recently and being called a ‘clumsy oaf’ in The Guardian, this
violinist has come a long way since then.
Something of a child
prodigy, Garrett was playing solos from the age of nine, and
soon became an attractive proposition for big name conductors
and orchestras, recording his first DG album aged 13. He would
have been around 17 when the Tchaikovsky/Conus recordings were
made. The isolation which his solo career created something
of a crisis in Garrett’s life not so very long after this recording
was made, but I am glad to see he is now carving a healthy international
career both as a soloist and chamber musician touring all over
the world.
David Garrett’s
playing on this recording is gorgeous throughout. His purity
of tone in the upper registers is a delight, and the tenderness
of the quieter passages can have a vulnerable quality which
is winning, but can be quite confrontational if the emotion
of the music is already too close for easy comfort. He did of
course have the famous ‘San Lorenzo’ violin at his disposal
at this stage in his career, and the brightness and singing
qualities of the instrument suit the heart-on-sleeve musicianship
of the young artist. His vibrato is intense and swift, which
I much prefer to the slow sloppy variety, but it sometimes does
have a width which for me can be a little over-persistent at
times, though this is very much a matter for personal taste.
I suppose the real lack is of any genuine excitement in the
performance as a whole. There are some swathes of orchestral
passagework which sound surprisingly uninvolved. The tempo of
the first movement is marked Allegro moderato, but my
feeling is that the ‘moderato’ gets too big a bite of the cherry.
Garrett’s own ancestry
has its roots in Russia, and there is no denying his emotional
connection with the music. In the booklet, he describes his
sensations and feelings about performing in the Moscow Great
Hall, and the experience clearly made a deep impression. The
central Canzonetta certainly has a fine, poetic feel
to it, and the passion I felt lacking a little in the first
movement is certainly more present in the Finale. Garrett’s
playing digs less deeply than some in this music, and at this
stage his tone and articulation has a light, perhaps almost
feminine feel to it. This I however prefer to any kind of mannered
attempt to draw throaty grit from music which often has a similarly
balletic feel to it as something like Swan Lake, with
all its French grace and stylistic elements. That said; the
Russian-ness of the music is not necessarily the foremost characteristic
which springs to mind, in the solo playing at least.
Jules Conus was
a composer unfamiliar to me. His original name Yuli Eduardovich
Konyus betrays Russian origins, although, born in Moscow, his
parents were of Italian and French descent. His Concerto
in E minor is every bit as romantic as that of Tchaikovsky,
and indeed owes not a little to that composer is some of the
melodic shapes, and in the orchestral palette of colour and
emphasis which Conus uses. There are some hints of other composers,
Dvořák and Rachmaninov to name a couple: you may have other
associations, but whatever the influences this concerto is more
than the sum of its parts, and has a strength of expression
which is forcibly and more than convincingly conveyed by both
orchestra and soloist. The piece is lacking only in the thematic
distinctiveness by which the greatest concertos are often remembered
– the memorable ‘hook’ which makes them a hit. You probably
won’t come away humming any of the tunes after a first hearing,
but I can assure you that you will be coming back to it if romantic
concertos are your cup of tea. Technically the recording is
of course excellent, although there is a slight drop in level
just before the cadenza for some reason.
The cover art is intriguing.
To me it looks as if Garrett is being beaten with a cello, with
very negative results both for that instrument, and possibly for
the soloist’s left shoulder. Competition is fierce in the ever-expanding
world of Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto, and in many ways the biggest
USP for this disc is the Conus concerto. With the Russian National
Orchestra on its home turf in the grand acoustic of the Moscow
Consevatory’s Great Hall and in good form under their founder
Mikhail Pletnev this was always likely to be more than an also-ran,
although this orchestra also accompanies Christian Tetzlaff on
his excellent recording of the Tchaikovsky on a Pentatone SACD
with Kent Nagano. David Garrett’s youthful performance may not
be an absolute first choice, but if you want the Conus then you
are unlikely to be disappointed by the Tchaikovsky.
Dominy Clements