To complement the review
by Rob Barnett I’m using a different recording for comparison
in the Violin Concerto and concentrating on a single comparator
for the Symphony.
Walton’s Violin Concerto begins Andante tranquillo (tr.
1). How do you define this? For violinist Kurt Nikkanen and
conductor William Boughton it means an assured and expressive,
sweet intensity of flowing melody. I compared the 1991 recording
by Lydia Mordkovitch with the London Philharomonic Orchestra/Jan
Latham-Koenig (Chandos CHAN 9073). Here are the timings
| Timings |
I |
II |
III |
Total |
| Nikkanen/Boughton |
11:49 |
7:09 |
13:42 |
32:40 |
| Mordkovitch/Latham-Koenig |
12:56 |
6:52 |
14:27 |
34:15 |
This shows Nikkanen/Boughton isn’t the most measured of recordings!
Mordkovitch and Latham-Koenig emphasise the tranquillity, but
in doing so the expression is paradoxically more uneasy, intently
studied, comparatively static and frozen. Presenting the second
theme (2:23), Nikkanen and Boughton show more swing and assurance,
the violin first lively but in effective contrast becoming softly
rhapsodic. Latham-Koenig’s second theme is firm but again rather
static, requiring Mordkovitch to inject energy. Boughton achieves
Walton’s intended sudden splash at the beginning of the development
(3:50) more successfully than Latham-Koenig. This is where all
becomes more animated and Nikkanen more energetic and later
more agitated, as marked. He provides a more gripping and contrasted
cadenza than the more impersonal Mordkovitch. To the recapitulation
(8:58) Boughton brings fresher, more focused woodwind solos
than Latham-Koenig while Nikkanen offers intense but also steely
melody, more involved and involving than Mordkovitch’s objectivity.
Boughton opens the second movement scherzo (tr. 2) freshly but
it’s Nikkanen who introduces its playfulness. Its gypsy-flavoured
second theme (1:20) Nikkanen savours quietly yet with plenty
of charm while to the return of the earlier material he brings
an attractive nervous energy which the orchestra feeds off.
Mordkovitch gives the second theme a more characterful coyness
but come the Trio (2:35) Boughton provides more flow, a warmer
horn melody. If Nikkanen’s presentation of it is arguably at
first a touch understated, his recall of the Trio theme after
the return of the scherzo is magical.
Boughton treats the march which opens the finale (tr. 3) lightly,
festively, if without quite the eagerness Latham-Koenig finds.
You may be forgiven, however, for thinking this is just a foil
for the lovely broadening out to the pastoral second theme (1:03)
to which Nikkanen brings an attractive lyrical flow with the
feel of grateful recollection. Mordkovitch is also at her best
here with rather more airy freedom, strength of purpose and
variation of dynamic. When the second theme returns on the violin
(4:40) it’s joined by a transformed, tamed version of the march
theme on the orchestra. Boughton revels here in a luscious texture
and sense of lyrical expansion, albeit Latham-Koenig’s pointing
of the union of themes is crisper. A memorable moment in this
finale is the surprise return of the first theme of the first
movement (8:00), luxuriantly presented by Nikkanen with the
finale’s tamed march theme as an orchestral backcloth. Mordkovitch
makes this reappearance from the first movement shine, with
slightly more edge and similarly makes its final appearance
more passionate where Nikkanen (11:22) is suitably ethereal
and concentrated. Boughton reserves his eagerness in this movement
for its coda.
In the First Symphony’s opening movement (tr. 4) Boughton conjures
a tellingly soft opening from which the first theme emerges
melodiously on the oboe. He creates a fine sense of organic
growth as the forces gather. The jagged accompanying figures
in the strings radiate a simmering energy and the theme becomes
more fraught in the massed woodwind. The second theme (1:58),
in low tessitura on the first violins, is cleanly projected
and becomes more resolute as the agitation increases. Boughton
makes clear the activity and thereby density of the texture
as the themes interlock – something they continue do throughout
the movement. The third theme (2:51), introduced by violas and
cellos is a more angular and expressive cousin to the second.
It is presented rather objectively. The climactic statement
of the first theme by full orchestra is more emphatic than spontaneous.
The middle section (5:49) sees a bassoon solo with solo viola
backcloth of a suddenly different, more human and individual
mood. This is vividly conveyed by Boughton. The strings’ tempo
fluctuations shortly thereafter are I feel somewhat over-pointed,
perhaps owing to a relatively slow basic pulse. The woodwind
musings above the strings’ line are poetically delineated as
are the following desolate woodwind solos. Clarity is achieved
at the expense of forward sweep. The great concluding procession
beginning on the heavy brass (11:45) has a purposeful stride
but the horns’ trills are carefully placed. This is controlled
power. The coda (14:26) is celebratory and the timpani appear
to come forward in the texture from 15:02, rightly and properly
as here they’re marked fff against everyone else’s ff,
the final low F for one beat (15:07) the only sound in the orchestra.
I compared the 1988 recording by the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra/Vernon
Handley (EMI 5 86596 2). Here are the comparative timings
| Timings |
I |
II |
III |
IV |
Total |
| Boughton |
15:28 |
6:27 |
11:26 |
13:25 |
46:46 |
| Handley |
13:41 |
5:59 |
10:30 |
12:25 |
42:35 |
Handley’s greater pace results in a more eager opening, a firmer
second theme, a more tense third theme and a first climax that
is taut as well as emphatic. His softening thereafter is sweeter
but less ethereal and poised than Boughton’s but Handley’s cellos’
repeat of the bassoon theme is more anguished. The shape of
the string writing thereafter is clearer, a distracted lament
before it becomes more purposeful and then angry. At the start
of the closing procession the horns’ trills snarl and there’s
a more immediate sense of the wielding of power. The final accented
two beats, firmly presented by Boughton, are spat out by Handley.
The second movement scherzo (tr. 5) has from Boughton all the
playfulness a scherzo should have. It’s also marked ‘with malice’
and this is less easy to grasp other than in its unpredictability
and continual teasing: passages of calm are introduced only
to be bludgeoned out of the way. The first theme (0:11) has
from Boughton a furtive restlessness. The second (0:52) is a
quiet flow including some silence, the ultimate quiet. The third
theme (1:06) is more aggressive and dismissive, the fourth (2:37)
wilder. There’s plenty to disturb: the spasmodic crescendi
and decrescendi of the violins from 1:48, stopped
horns at 4:34, extreme contrasts of dynamic and cumulative effect
of manic repetition. Again Boughton’s control is arguably too
evident. His malice is not that which appears to create mayhem.
Handley’s faster tempo serves him better in this respect. His
scherzo has a more hurtling progress. It might just go off the
rails, with the fourth theme serving as an abandoned dance.
The slow movement (tr. 6), and being Andante not really
that slow, is marked ‘with melancholy’. Boughton makes it a
slow, Adagietto - sultry impressionist languor. If this
is melancholy, Debussy’s faun must have it and comes readily
to mind because of the first theme flute solo and gorgeous playing
Boughton gets. The second theme on clarinet (1:27) is more aching
and intense, the third, also on clarinet (2:40) even more so
and more beautiful as well. The sighing violins here are just
one aspect of accompaniment with many interspersed solos that
make this a whole landscape of both collective and individual
sorrow. When the violins remove their mutes at 3:54 the atmosphere
becomes grimmer. The intensity gathers until the fff
marking on the strings at 9:04 signals emotion. This is finally
given full rein for a brief, blazing spell. In this movement
Boughton makes his best case for a slower tempo in that the
music deserves this impassioned concentration. In comparison
Handley seems too fast, even though he points the key features
equally well.
Boughton’s finale (tr. 7) has an emphatically affirmative opening,
albeit not as sunnily majestic as Handley’s. Boughton’s more
relaxed, lightly articulated first fugue (3:00) is a success,
though so is Handley’s fizz and edge. Boughton makes more telling
the episode introduced by the oboe (4:16), an appreciation of
the quieter aspects of life. The second fugue (7:07) he treats
more firmly where Handley is more expansive. Boughton clearly
and patiently builds the closing jamboree, his slower tempo
not realizing Handley’s effervescence but bringing us more pointedly
to the contemplation of an individual soul in the distanced
trumpet solo (10:57).
What strikes me most about these performances, which are well
worth hearing, is their thoughtful approach; they impress me
most in their quieter moments. They’re well served by a recording
which is rounded and dense. I personally find Boughton’s consistently
slow tempi in the Symphony less attractive than did Rob Barnett.
Walton himself didn’t favour them. In his book Sixteen Symphonies
Bernard Shore quotes Walton on the first movement, “it’s too
emotional as it is, and it gets unbearable if that side of the
picture is drawn out. It must go on!” His 1959 Edinburgh
Festival concert performance times at 13:01, his 1951 studio
recording 13:51 against Boughton’s 15:28, but Haitink’s 1981
recording takes 16:18. All that said, I agree with Rob Barnett
about the effectiveness of Boughton’s slow movement.
Michael Greenhalgh
see also review by Rob
Barnett
Kurt Nikkanen (violin) 
