The real prize here for rarity is the recording of Dohnányi’s
Violin Sonata. Recorded in 1952, it wasn’t released until 1978
when it appeared on a Varèse Sarabande LP. It joins Pristine
Audio’s restoration of the Brahms sonata collaborations of Dohnányi
and the elegant American violinist Albert Spalding [
Pristine Audio PACM078]. In a sense it’s not
a real reflection of Spalding’s stature, any more than the Brahms
Sonatas which were made for Remington the previous year, given that
Spalding had retired and was soon to die. Thus Spalding’s intonation
wavers too often in the C sharp minor sonata, and there are several
points where his technique buckles under the strain of Dohnányi’s
passagework. Add to this the increasing thinness of Spalding’s
tone, especially at the top, and one might be forgiven for thinking
this little more than a historical curio, an artefact beloved of collectors
and completists but of no real function beyond that rather rarefied,
somewhat obsessive community. That would not wholly be so. The performance
demarcates how Dohnányi wanted his sonata to ‘go’
and Spalding does generate a degree of romantic intensity, not least
via his expressive and pervasive portamenti. There is plenty of drive
in the outer sections of the finale and phrasal nobility from the violinist,
though the tonal colour of his best days is long gone. So, it’s
no match violinistically for Ricci, or Shumsky, or even - more relevantly
in terms of its time period, perhaps - for the English violinist Thomas
Matthews who recorded it on 78s for Australian Columbia. Then again,
this is Dohnányi’s sonata and he is playing the piano -
no small inducement.
Another valuable item is the 1951 Remington LP transfer of the Four
Rhapsodies, Op.11. There has been no CD transfer of this either. Though
volume levels fluctuate in the original set-up, one can only admire the
composer-pianist’s command, not least in the post-Lisztian heroics of
the G minor or in the pugnacious Mussorgskian moments of the C major. This
is the one with sound level fluctuation and also some inherent tape wobbles.
The
Dies Irae courses through the final E flat minor.
The transfer of the Second Piano Concerto recording is in stereo,
taken from an American Angel source. It was recorded in London with Boult
and the RPO, the composer once more the executant. Couched in late-Romantic
vernacular, the urgent March theme of the first movement imparts a Brahms
cum Rachmaninov cum Liszt patina to the work. In the slow movement, though,
one hears a considerable amount of refined pianism and Boult draws out some
distinguished string tone from the orchestra even though thematically things
are not especially distinctive. The chattering winds in the finale beckon
liveliness and the loquacious high spirits are duly forthcoming; an amiable
fugato included.
I should finally re-emphasise the point in the headnote: that the
first two items are in ambient stereo, whilst the concerto is in full
stereo.
Jonathan Woolf
