Violin Partita No.2 in D minor BWV1004 (1720) [32:24]
Ludwig van BEETHOVEN (1770-1827)
Violin Sonata in A major, Op.47 (1803) [39:12]
Henryk WIENIAWSKI (1835-1880)
Scherzo-tarantelle, Op.16 (1856) [4:38]
Johannes BRAHMS (1833-1897)
Hungarian Dance No.1 in G minor arr. Joseph Joachim [3:17]
Maxim Vengerov (violin)
Itamar Golan (piano)
rec. April 2012, live, Wigmore Hall, London
WIGMORE HALL LIVE WHLIVE0056 [79:52]
I was at the Carl Flesch competition, at the Barbican in London, when
Maxim Vengerov won his celebrated first prize. He stood almost embarrassingly
above the other finalists and it was clear that, good fortune permitting,
he would in time become a major violinist. So it proved. Then came the
injury and sabbatical. Now here’s the Return.
In her notes Hilary Finch makes it sound like Vengerov is Horowitz, and
the journalese flows like the interval drinks (‘The air was electric in
a hall in which there was standing room only...’). By the way she mentions
the interval drinks too: ‘The Wigmore interval was festive, with celebratory
drinks and receptions for the audience’. Sometimes, when I read this kind
of stuff, I thank God for the CD and the chance to listen on one’s own.
If that helps kill concert giving, so be it.
I wish I could be rather more enthusiastic about Vengerov’s recital with
Itamar Golan, as he’s plainly a violinist I and many others greatly admire.
It’s interesting that two leading Russian players, Vengerov and Mullova
both experimented strongly around the same time with historically informed
practice when it came to Baroque works, and especially those of Bach.
Of the two it’s undoubtedly Mullova who has integrated such practices
the more methodically and powerfully into her technical and expressive
arsenal. Her tone is far more resinous than Vengerov’s classically romanticised
tone, and his use of the Baroque bow still strikes me as an awkward half-way
house. His performance of Bach’s Partita in D minor is measured enough,
but something seems to be sublimated. Phrasing in the opening Allemanda
is a touch stately, the Sarabanda is introspective and tapered
and even in the Chaconne there are, strangely, a number of passages
that seem to pass without leaving much mark. Maybe Vengerov’s point is
to reduce the music to a more intimate scale and to reflect that in performance.
It remains though, rather a muted affair.
The Kreutzer Sonata opens in a decided unhurried, almost nonchalantly
disengaged sort of way. Some of the subsequent phrasing can be a touch
snatched, and there’s the occasional, irrelevant missed note. The Variations
unfold in an unhurried way, neither as seraphically (sleepily) slow as
Schneiderhan and Kempff, nor as crazily fast as Fuchs and Balsam. Exchanges
are well considered and the playing is well-balanced though I wouldn’t
say it’s especially well-characterised nor would I say that Vengerov’s
tonal qualities are yet truly in place. The finale goes well, speedily
enough, well articulated and co-ordinated. In the end, despite the Return
of the Gladiator aura that we are being sold, I can’t honestly say that
I was especially involved by the performance. Parts were perfunctory,
and nothing much comes alive. You should continue to revel in the young
wizard’s Teldec recording of the same piece [8573 89079-2].
Vengerov and Golan end with two nineteenth-century favourites, the showy
Wieniawski, Scherzo-tarantelle and Brahms’ Hungarian Dance
in G minor. Applause has been jettisoned throughout and audience noise
is pretty well non-existent. A welcome night, then, for Vengerov admirers,
and lovers of the celebratory drink, though the musical rewards are very
much more mixed.
Jonathan Woolf
A welcome night for Vengerov admirers, and lovers of the celebratory drink,
though the musical rewards are very much more mixed.
See also review by Ralph Moore
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