There
is never likely to be any kind of famine of recordings
of the Tchaikovsky Violin
Concerto, but while I did have a punt at David
Garrett’s recording (see
review)
not so very long ago, I haven’t since been piling my shelves
with alternative performances either revered or reviled.
As she describes at some length in the booklet, Janine
Jansen has performed this concerto many times over the
past few years, and with conductors such as Ashkenazy and
Gergiev. Referring to the circumstances under which it
was written, Jansen doesn’t see the piece as depressing
or maudlin: “Intimate and melancholic would be more accurate
descriptions.”
This
to a certain extent holds the key to this recording. Jansen’s
solo part is as dramatic and as technically virtuosic as
one could hope and wish for, but she doesn’t ‘grandstand’ the
music, and makes no off-the-wall attempts to make the piece
more than it is. The Mahler Chamber Orchestra sounds full
and dynamic enough, but as its name would suggest it doesn’t
portray this music in quite the symphonic perspectives
one might expect from one of the larger European or American
orchestras. The tuttis have plenty of heft, but the sensation
is that of being that much closer to the musicians, comparative
to the big space and greater bulk of strings in the Moscow
Great Hall with Pletnev/Garrett. With this warmer sense
of intimacy you might expect a more lyrical approach, and
this is sometimes the case, though Daniel Harding maintains
a suitably Russian feel through crisp articulation in the
first and final movements.
The
central
Canzonetta is beautifully played but without
sentimental lingering, shaving a good 30 seconds from Garrett’s
timing and having good forward momentum. The sense of emotional
commitment comes through well in Jansen’s playing. She
eschews routine in general, and the way this works shows
in the expressive simplicity in this central movement.
This is music which demands all those elusive qualities
of communication which no amount of technical ability can
guarantee, and Jansen had me gripped from beginning to
end.
Remarkably,
the
Canzonetta of the concerto was originally a
different movement altogether, and this is the piece we
now know as the
Méditation from
Souvenir d’un
lieu cher. More commonly played with piano accompaniment,
Romanian-Dutch conductor Alexandru Lascae orchestrated
the piece for soloist and strings, and it has been a staple
of Jansen’s repertoire in this form for years. The family
connection to the concerto is spotlit in this setting,
and you can re-programme the track order and find out why
Tchaikovsky and his colleagues agreed that it didn’t hack
it as the central movement of the
Violin Concerto. It
is of course a charming work in its own right. The
Scherzo and
Mélodie provide
an effectively light and affectionate close to the programme,
and in Jansen and Harding’s hands the
Méditation is
also revealed as an emotionally charged and potently expressive
piece.
These ‘live’ recordings
are very good, and there is no audience noise and only
a few sniffs and grunts from those on the stage. Just as
a matter of interest, this release has been Janine Jansen’s
highest ‘hit’ in the Dutch charts so far, reaching No.5,
where her ‘Four Seasons’ CD only reached No.33, and the
J.S. Bach ‘
Inventions
and Partita’ made No.12. Whether this is an indication
of ms. Jansen’s own increasing popularity, the pre-‘Sinterklaas’/Christmas
timing of the release or that of the repertoire presented
is hard to say. The principal selling point of this release
is Janine Jansen’s pure tone and excellent playing, and
for this reason it is most certainly worth the asking price.
Compared to numerous august recordings this does sail a
little close to being ‘Tchaikovsky-lite’ in some ways,
but I actually very much like this relatively intimate
approach to what can easily become overblown and stereotypical
high romanticism. It may not topple old favourites, but
I’m fairly convinced most collectors will find it adds
a breath of fresh air to their libraries.
Dominy Clements