Josef Wolfsthal (1899-1931) was one of the rising crop of 
                  inter-war German fiddle players, and one of the leading students 
                  of Carl Flesch. His early death ended a career of rising potential 
                  and one that, discographically speaking at any rate, had already 
                  witnessed two recordings of the Beethoven Concerto, the first 
                  a truncated acoustic but the second, as heard here, a complete 
                  electric made in 1929. 
                  
                  Wolfsthal had a quite tightly concentrated core sound. His tone 
                  is neither big nor especially variegated, but it is very sweet 
                  and is applied intelligently throughout. He largely abjures 
                  noticeably expressive portamenti but characterises with exemplary 
                  commitment, and brings a sense of spruce modernity to the Beethoven. 
                  That’s true of those passages in the first movement where older 
                  practitioners habitually slowed down; Wolfsthal is not inflexible 
                  here, but he does keep the tempi flowing relatively quickly, 
                  and he avoids wholly the trap of sentimentalising. His cadenza 
                  – here and in the companion Mozart Concerto, all the cadenzas 
                  are Joachim’s – is played with real dash and bravado. There’s 
                  a swift lyricism in the slow movement and a playful, controlled 
                  vitality in the finale, where, once again, he excels in the 
                  cadenza. It helps, that he plays with the Berlin Philharmonic, 
                  directed here by Manfred Gurlitt, a conductor and composer of 
                  perception. 
                  
                  Earlier in his career Wolfsthal had been concertmaster of the 
                  Berlin State Opera Orchestra, and for the Mozart he joins his 
                  old orchestra, and the conductor Frieder Weissmann. One admires 
                  Wolfsthal here for his bright, pellucid sound. His phrasing 
                  is alert and alive, with an electric vivacity; and his trill 
                  is ringing and tight. He varies and deepens his vibrato width 
                  for the slow movement to considerable effect, as he does in 
                  the finale’s cadenza (with a brisk slide or two), but whilst 
                  there’s no great sense of a presiding personality at work, the 
                  playing is highly musical and impressive – and stylistically 
                  apt, for the time. I don’t have this 78 set, so can’t be sure, 
                  but the strong rallentando at 3:44 in the second movement sounds 
                  very much like a preparation for a side turn, which was a recurring 
                  feature of recordings on 78 and one not often enough singled 
                  out for comment. 
                  
                  You may well have come across Wolfsthal’s name in relation to 
                  Strauss; his solo in the Bourgeois Gentilhomme recording 
                  is still famous, as is his playing in Strauss’s first Ein 
                  Heldenleben traversal. Some of his recordings have been 
                  reissued, as here, but things such as Tartini’s Devil’s Trill, 
                  with Liachowsky, remain resolutely untransferred, so far as 
                  I’m aware. The acoustic Beethoven was released by Biddulph. 
                  This Pristine transfer of the electric version reminds collectors 
                  of Pearl’s release on GEMM CD9387 which, in addition to the 
                  two concertos, included a Beethoven Romance in a 1925 
                  recording conducted by Thierfelder, the same conductor who directed 
                  the acoustic concerto. Mark Obert-Thorn’s transfers successfully 
                  eclipse the older Pearl, by virtue of their cleaner surfaces 
                  and greater detail. 
                  
                  Jonathan Woolf