Remastered with
24 Bit and issued from superb source
says the rubric, a little uneasily in
English, on the back of the jewel case.
Apart from not knowing what 24 Bit is
– please don’t write to tell me; I don’t
care, I’m still struggling with the
changeover to stereo – it begs a further
question. What source in particular
is the first that springs to mind because
it assuredly isn’t the original source
material. Let’s leave that for a moment.
The performance of the Concerto is not
the Lucerne Festival recording in August
1947 but a live Berlin one about a month
later (nor should it be confused with
the later 1953 Philharmonia disc – both
these others have made appearances over
the years and earned just praise. This
particular 1947 performance is far more
measured than the later recording. This
Berlin performance is if anything possibly
the finest of the three, though the
Lucerne performance has its staunch
and well argued adherents and I wouldn’t
want to be with out it nor in truth
the 1953 recording. Furtwängler
had earlier been taped in concert with
Röhn (Berlin, 1944) and was later
to be taped with Schneiderhan, a performance
that emerged on LP in 1964, I think.
No trace seems to remain of any performance
with Georg Kulenkampff, alas, whose
set with Schmidt-Isserstedt seems to
divide people into paroxysms of superlatives
or lip-curling indifference (I admire
it).
If you don’t know the
Berlin performance as you do the Lucerne
I should say the differences are slight
but the levels of tension and engagement
seem even more palpable in Berlin. The
measured orchestral introduction, replete
with rubati and oceanic flexibility
will not please the military medium
brigade or adherents of metricality
but the elasticity and flexibility Furtwangler
conjures is nevertheless remarkable.
Menuhin is closely miked – too closely
miked – and the basses are a bit "fat"
but the level of soloistic introspection,
the very quick slides and total identification
with the music is equally special. Menuhin
is on notably elevated form here and
one hears things never before heard
– orchestral counter-themes for example
that I have genuinely never heard in
the same light as here or orchestral
textures. Menuhin tears into the Kreisler
cadenza – and though there may be some
rough bowing it’s still magnetically
involving. Freedom of expression courses
through the slow movement, with Menuhin’s
prayerful tone intoning a greater truth
than most violinists envisage in this
work. The finale is sweet but not lyrically
elfin – and at a relatively sedate tempo;
nothing is pushed too hard. The performance
elucidates a great deal and achieves
to a large degree a state of power and
serenity.
Furtwängler was
hardly unique in programming the orchestral
arrangements of the Cavatina from Op.130
or the Grosse Fuge. His antipode Toscanini
also performed and recorded such movements.
The 1940 Cavatina suffers from rather
a boxy studio acoustic but is splendidly
evocative – and this is the only performance
of it to have survived. This Grosse
Fuge broadcast has been less issued
over the years than the 1954 Vienna
Philharmonic performance, which I last
saw on Music and Arts. Both are galvanic
but maybe the Vienna is the more overwhelming.
But for reasons of its greater ubiquity
it’s good to have this Berlin performance
available.
As for the transfers
I’ve experienced some mixed emotions
with Archipel discs. Their Mengelberg-Bach
disc was a bit of a ‘hit and miss’ affair
with a glutinous bass boost doing for
an Orchestral Suite. There is some low
level hum in the Concerto but I’m not
sure, since I don’t have a comparative
source to which to listen, whether this
derives from LP rumble (if Archipel
have used a previous LP transfer as
its source) or is inherent in the original
tapes. It’s great news that these performances
are newly available – but interested
parties should, if at all possible,
sample before they buy.
Jonathan Woolf
Yehudi Menuhin (violin) 