AVAILABILITY
www.tahra.com
I well remember the
day I bought my first live Thibaud recording
– a single cassette that arrived from
America containing his three live Mozart
Concerto performances in Paris with
Enescu conducting in 1951. The failing
technique was balanced by the untainted
instinct for Mozartian phrasing and
the pleasure remained intact. For many
years afterwards that was the extent
of the live Thibaud I knew to have survived.
But how wrong, how badly wrong I was
because now I seem to write about little
else – Live Thibaud seems to arrive
monthly through my letterbox.
Hot on the heels of
Malibran and APR is this Tahra, which
I believe was published after the former
and before the latter. The big news
is that it contains a work previously
absent from Thibaud’s discography, the
Beethoven Concerto. It also includes
yet another Symphonie espagnole to swell
the ranks of live performances (he left,
amazingly, no commercial disc of it
though at least two were recorded but
never issued), a Mozart Concerto No.
4 – again no commercial recording but
the Enescu will have to do – and the
Franck Sonata (two recordings, both
with Cortot). This is then a major release
by anyone’s standards and particularly
so in the string world. Given Thibaud’s
famously small repertoire we are moving
toward a position where a significant
amount has been captured for posterity
but may I urge archivists, private hoarders,
radio companies, off-air enthusiasts
and other interested parties to try
to locate any example of his performance
of the Mozart Sinfonia Concertante with
violist Maurice Vieux, which may yet
prove to be one of the classic accounts.
But let’s see what
we have here. The Beethoven is a poignant
and affecting example of Thibaud’s playing.
The orchestra is certainly not inspiring
and Thibaud makes a shaky start with
the difficult broken octave entry but
once past that we can luxuriate in some
of his piquant slides, his still reasonably
nourished (though not electric) trill,
and his consummate musicianship. It’s
true of course as I have written previously
about his post-1950 performances that
tonally he was no longer the giant of
old. There are times when his tone sounds
distinctly starved – and equally that
he is forwardly balanced and thus obscures
orchestral counter-themes and wind lines.
Also, on the debit side, the orchestra
lacks heft in the tuttis and the recording
dulls percussion and lower strings.
All true – but the survival of this
performance outweighs all the negatives
– and we can listen to his intensely
provocative rallentandi and accelerandi,
his limpid phrasing of the first movement
second subject and his own cadenza,
a rather weird and vivid one at that.
In the slow movement he is delicate
and withdrawn, his tone attaining a
degree of affecting sweetness and the
finale shows him exploring some elfin
phrasing, crystalline and sensual, as
well, and ending – in spite of the booming
acoustic spread, in triumph. Thibaud
was seventy at the time, an age when
most violinists have either retired
or are fully into decline (we except
ageless titans like Milstein) so one
should not expect the glorious playing
of the 1920s but this is still a wonderful
example of his playing in the greatest
concerto written for his instrument.
The first disc couples
the Beethoven with the Fourth Mozart
Concerto, recorded in concert the previous
year in Amsterdam with the Concertgebouw
and van Beinum. There are some scuffs
on the acetates but the sound is otherwise
good. Van Beinum sets a brisk tempo
and Thibaud makes a very, very nervous
start but warms up appreciably and quickly,
if a little scratchily in the cadenza.
Thibaud was simply one of the most natural
and effective Mozart players of his
generation and it’s a privilege to hear
his exceptional phrasing in the slow
movement, his perfectly placed peaks
of those phrases, the lyric line presented
with sensual intimacy. The finale is
bracing and characterful with real flair.
Comparing this 1951
Symphonie espagnole with the 1941 Ansermet
and the 1953 Martinon (both on APR)
has been profitable – there’s also one
with Stokowski in 1947. The sound in
the studios of Hessischen Rundfunks
is rather blatant and cold with a brittle,
glassy quality that doesn’t flatter
the orchestra or the soloist. In terms
of tempo and tempo relationships this
performance could almost be a carbon
copy of the Martinon and they are both
quicker than the earlier wartime performance
with the Suisse Romande when his technique
was that much more secure. Now he has
tightened the tempi to limit physical
problems, left and right hand (see the
occasional problems with bowing that
he has in the Allegro non troppo opening
movement). He’s not quite as sparkling
in the Scherzando second movement as
he was to be a couple of years later
but as ever he omits the Intermezzo
(Russian players routinely did this
but not always Franco-Belgians). His
Franck Sonata with Jean Laforge is a
fine adjunct to those two famous Cortot
traversals, the first an acoustic in
1923 and the second an electric remake
six years later. Of the two the 1923
set is the better; indeed it’s one of
the great recordings of the work on
disc. Thirty years later Thibaud makes
predictably fewer portamanti though
he makes quite a few but his ravishing
diminuendi are still a thing of wonder
though the tone has thinned and once
or twice intonation wanders. He reserves
greatest weight of tonal colour and
portamanti for the Allegro section even
though there is some rhythmic instability
at the end. He’s faster in the Recitativo
fantastico in 1952 than he was in 1923
and whilst the end of the Sonata is
a bit approximate it’s still a real
experience to hear Thibaud in a work
so closely identified with him.
This gatefold double
comes with some beautifully printed
photographs and an affectionate note
from Gérald Drieu. In view of
the Beethoven, in particular, I think
this is a set of high significance and
Tahra are to be congratulated for making
these documents available.
Jonathan Woolf