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