This CD brought back a very warm personal memory. In the early
1970s, while I was a student in York, I attended a York Festival
concert in the city’s Minster. The concert was given by what was
then the BBC Northern Symphony Orchestra (now the BBC Philharmonic)
and most of the programme was conducted by the late Vernon Handley.
However, the centrepiece was a performance of the Elgar concerto
by Paul Tortelier, which was conducted by Sir Adrian. These two
great artists came onto the platform together. By then Sir Adrian
was elderly and, no doubt, a little frail. It was quite a long
walk from the green room and Tortelier, with great courtesy, gave
Boult his arm and supported him gently and discreetly the whole
way to the podium. At the end of the piece Tortelier finished
with a flamboyant flourish and immediately leapt to his feet and
embraced Sir Adrian warmly. His affection and respect were clear
to see.
Let me share one
other memory of that concert. Immediately before the concerto
an announcement was made to the effect that en route from
Geneva M. Tortelier’s luggage had gone astray and he “craved
our indulgence” (the phrase sticks in my mind) that as a result
he would be obliged to perform wearing a lounge suit. How
times have changed! To judge by what I’ve seen at this year’s
BBC Proms, it seems that nowadays pretty much anything goes
in the way of concert dress though there have been some honourable
exceptions such as Boulez, Rattle and Haitink.
This Festival
Hall performance of the Elgar dates from 1972 and, I imagine,
that the sessions for the Tortelier/Boult recording for EMI,
released in 1973, probably took place around this time. Certainly
Boult and his soloist seem to have a good mutual understanding.
Those weaned on the celebrated Du Pré/Barbirolli account may
find Tortelier somewhat cool but I think this is no bad thing.
In his notes Tully Potter says that Tortelier disliked excessive
portamento in the 9/8 Moderato of the first movement and sought
instead to play “with the greatest purity”. His playing in
this movement is clean yet it has grace and sufficient feeling
and I’d describe his approach to the movement and, indeed,
to the whole work as displaying patrician passion. His quicksilver
playing in the second movement is admirable.
Ably supported
by Boult, Tortelier turns in a noble and refined reading of
the great slow movement. He exhibits a dignified melancholy
and this is a reading in which the heart is not worn on the
sleeve. I found it affecting precisely because the reading
was just a touch understated. I’m less sure about the finale.
Here the performance seems a bit subdued with rather too much
held in reserve. That may be the fault of the recording. Throughout
the performance, but especially in this movement, I felt the
orchestra was placed too much in the background. Did the BBC
engineers of the day compress the sound, I wonder? Interpretatively
there’s much to enjoy, however. The Poco più lento (track
4, around 6:19) is not slowed too much, something of which
I approve. In the hands of Tortelier and Boult the passage
is, as it should be, a reflective episode rather than one
in which the heart strings are tugged excessively. The subsequent
reminiscence of the slow movement is serene and almost withdrawn
– here one curses a couple of coughers in the audience! The
lightning coda sounds a bit smudged and not quite together
– I seem to recall it was a bit that way at York also – as
if Boult was surprised by his soloist.
All in all this
is a noble performance although some may prefer a more overt
approach. The recorded sound is perfectly acceptable, subject
to the caveat about the sound of the orchestra.
The earliest performance
on the disc is that of Debussy’s brief sonata. The sonata
receives a fine performance and though Tortelier is the chief
attraction this recording offers us also a welcome reminder
of how fine a pianist was Ernest Lush. He contributes significantly
to the success of the performance. There is a studio version
of this sonata by Tortelier, dating from around the time of
this BBC performance – or perhaps a little later - and it’s
already available on CD. In his review
Christopher Howell was most enthusiastic and though I came
across his review only after I’d completed my listening to
this BBC Legends account it’s impossible not to concur with
his view that “Tortelier is master of the wide range of moods
which Debussy’s pithy little masterpiece encompasses, from
infinite sadness to fierce exultation, and again reveals the
humanity of a work which can seem more elusive in other hands.”
The recorded sound on this BBC CD is, perhaps inevitably,
a little dry and close but to say that the recording is nearly
fifty years old it’s remarkably good.
We return to the
Festival Hall for a 1974 performance of the Brahms Double
Concerto in which Tortelier was joined by his son, Yan Pascal
Tortelier, who was plying his trade in those days as a violinist
rather than as a conductor. I suppose I should come clean
and say that although I love the music of Brahms this particular
concerto is not a favourite work. In fact I regard it as the
weakest of his four concertos, the beautiful slow movement
notwithstanding. This present performance is enjoyable and
Pritchard conducts well – the orchestra is much more satisfactorily
balanced than was the case in the Elgar.
However, one drawback
must be noted. Tortelier fils plays well but he’s a
very good violinist while his father was a very great cellist.
When the two play together it’s Tortelier père who
comes across as the stronger musical personality. Brahms’s
writing in this concerto is such that one must have two well-matched
soloists to effect a proper balance and I don’t feel that’s
quite achieved all the time during this performance. That
said, both soloists deliver some lovely singing lines in the
slow movement, supported by some very good, mellow playing
from the BBC orchestra. I can never really warm to Brahms
in jovial vein – joviality doesn’t seem his natural mien -
and the finale to this concerto is no exception. But all concerned
combine to give a lively and spirited reading of the movement.
This disc offers
an excellent reminder of the artistry of Paul Tortelier and
despite one or two reservations I enjoyed it very much. I
hope there may be more Tortelier performances to come from
the BBC archives.
John Quinn