Niccolo PAGANINI (1782-1840)
24 Caprices Op.1
Concerto for Violin and Orchestra No.
1 in D major Op.6
London
Symphony Orchestra/Anthony
Collins
Concerto for Violin and Orchestra No.
2 in B minor Op.7 La Campanella
London
Symphony Orchestra/Anthony
Collins
Maurice RAVEL
(1875-1937)
Tzigane
L’Orchestre de la Suisse Romande/Ernest
Ansermet
Richard STRAUSS
(1864-1949)
Sonata for Violin and Piano in E flat
Op.18
Carlo Bussotti (piano)
Carl Maria von
WEBER (1786-1826)
Sonatas; Six Sonates Progressives: Nos.
1-6 J99-104
Carlo Bussotti (piano)
Pablo de SARASATE
(1844-1908)
Concert Fantasy on Carmen Op.25
Zigeunerweisen Op.20
London
Symphony Orchestra/ Piero
Gamba
Camille SAINT-SAËNS
(1835-1921)
Havanaise in E Op.83
Introduction and Rondo capriccioso in
A minor Op.28
London
Symphony Orchestra/Piero
Gamba
Edouard LALO (1823-1892)
Symphonie Espagnole in D minor Op.21
Orchestre de la Suisse Romande/Ernest
Ansermet
Paul HINDEMITH
(1895-1963)
Sonatas for solo Violin: Op.31 No.1
and No.2
Sergei PROKOFIEV
(1891-1953)
Solo Violin Sonata in D Op.115
Aram KHACHATURIAN
(1903-1978)
Concerto for Violin and Orchestra
in D minor
London
Philharmonic Orchestra/Anatole
Fistoulari
Ruggiero Ricci (violin)
Accompaniments as above
Recordings made between 1950 and 1960
With a number of singles,
twofers, boxes and ancillary historical
retrievals to his name Ruggiero Ricci
stands as one of the elite. Now retired,
he can look back on his achievements,
some documented here, with a degree
of pride. But Ricci, ever-combative
and revealing, would doubtless bristle
at the mere thought of contemplative
sentimentality. He stood up for what
he believed, in life, and on record,
and did things because they were there
to do. Like mountain climbers or Saharan
explorers Ricci trod new ground, ventured
afield, took chances, gave of himself.
Not all the ventures were well received
and not everyone responds to Ricci’s
visceral humanity, his Huberman-like
daring to compromise tonal beauty in
the interest of characterised drama.
But then Ricci is a one-off, a product
of a complex and difficult childhood,
through which he has emerged toughened
and outspoken, and whose early adulthood
proved equally difficult to manage.
But survive he has and this Decca 5
CD box testifies to Ricci’s daring and
imagination and to his extravagant resources
of musical adrenalin.
The first CD gives
us his 1950 cycle of the Paganini Caprices,
the first such on disc (Renardy’s earlier
cycle has the inauthentic piano accompaniment).
Decca’s acoustic was not overly sensitive
to the violinist but Ricci’s fearless
bravado triumphed over such trifling
problems. Whilst Ricci has built up
a commanding reputation as a virtuoso
gymnast of the first order these are
not technically unimpeachable performances
though the extent to which they fall
from grace in this respect is trivial
when set against such stunning playing.
In the Octaves study, No. 3, his vibrato
is obtrusively prominent – against which
one can note that the melody in the
Thirds study is scrupulously maintained,
that the Fifth Caprice is magnetic,
and that Ricci at all times manages
to sustain the contrastive properties
of these exceptionally complex pieces
with an intense vibrancy and musicality.
Whenever I come to review the Caprices
invariably I turn first to this venerable
set – not because he is invariably superior
technically to today’s players (a number
are more scrupulous in this respect)
but for his sheer power of communication
and sculpting of what in other hands
tends toward academic or motoric projection.
Collectors should note that the Italian
label Dynamic has reissued the Caprices
in their 10 CD box tribute to the violinist,
as has Pearl where it’s coupled with
the Tchaikovsky Concerto with Sargent.
That’s the best bet for a single CD
edition.
His reputation as a
Paganinian precedes him so naturally
the second disc is given over mostly
to his Concerto recordings. The First
– both are with the LSO and Anthony
Collins and recorded in 1955 – is particularly
the victim of some rather thin orchestral
string tone but Ricci’s surmounting
of the Sauret cadenza is thrilling and
only has one or two spots of weakness.
They play the Collins-edited tuttis.
Ricci makes a big sound in the Adagio
even if there are a few moments where
there is a certain colouristic limitation
in his phasing. The Allegro maestoso
of No.2, with its cadenza this time
by pianist Artur Balsam, has some devilishly
fine playing and there’s real lyric
generosity in the slow movement complete
with some pellucidly executed trills.
The avalanche of left hand pizzicati,
chromatic octaves and double harmonics
in the finale are executed with tremendous
panache. This disc concludes with Ricci’s
foray into Ravel’s Tzigane. Accompanied
by Ansermet – dramatic and intense,
though not over emoted.
The third disc brings
surprises to those who think of Ricci
only as a finger-busting gymnast. The
Strauss Sonata with Carlo Bussotti,
a fine pianist who recorded with Szigeti,
shows Ricci in a ripely Romantic sonata
- maybe unusual territory to some. There
is a slightly nasal quality to his tone
here and some rather wavery vibrato,
but he’s never afraid to coarsen his
tone in the heat of battle. He shows
a wide range of tone colours in the
second movement and relaxes with deft
timing for those moments of lyrical
introspection and Brahmsian cantilever
in the finale. The 1953 recording shows
no noticeable residual tape hiss. I’m
glad that Decca has mined other little-known
Ricci recordings such as the six Weber
Sonatas. I’m not aware that there has
been a reissue of the Sonates Progressives
since those initial 1954 releases. He’s
partnered once more by Bussotti though
the balance rather favours the violinist,
and there’s something of a constricted
room ambience to this set. There are
a number of standout moments in the
course of these little and very attractive
works; the luminously expressive Romanza
of the F major for instance or the bleak,
seesawing vibrato-less terror of the
Adagio of No. 2 in G major. Though he
has a big personality Ricci is capable
of considerable delicacy and moments
of lightness – as witness the wit of
the Rondo Vivace of No. 4 in E flat
major (aided and abetted by equally
distinguished music-making from Bussotti)
or the veritable charm of the longest
movement of any of these Sonatas, the
Largo-Polacca of No. 6.
Ricci had a good discographic
relationship with one-time childhood
prodigy conductor, Piero Gamba. The
Carmen Fantasy is all vocalized, evocative
colour and vibrant intensity whilst
Zigeunerweisen is full of flair indeed.
He teamed up with Ansermet for the Symphonie
Espagnole, a generally convincing traversal.
The second movement is bold and flavoursome
with Ansermet shaping detail finely
and the Andante is truly prayerful and
elevated even if Ricci’s sinewy vibrato
does impart a certain edge to it all.
The Rondo finale is joyful and ebullient.
The final disc gives
us another example of his concerto prowess
(the Khachaturian) and solo works, for
which he was famous, but once again
the selection is judicious. A number
of recordings in this boxed set are
noted as first international CD releases
and this is the case with the Hindemith
and Prokofiev Sonatas. He plays the
little Op.31 Nos. 1 and 2 of Hindemith.
The first is crisply done with an attractive
Intermezzo and a real Prestissimo last
movement but the Second is even better.
His playing in alt – demanding
and repeatedly – is notable and his
intonation doesn’t buckle in the second
of the four movements. His playing here
is strong-minded and powerful. The constant
strumming pizzicati of the third movement
are well judged and in the finale, based
on Komm, lieber Mai he presents
the tune with folk like simplicity before
embarking on the variations with technical
polish and architectural understanding.
When it comes to the Prokofiev his displays
ebullience and a roughened tone in the
Moderato opening movement and handles
the finale with a firm and flexible
drive.
The last piece is the
Khachaturian Concerto, a recording made
with the LPO and Anatole Fistoulari
in July 1956. The first recording of
the Concerto was the famous one with
Oistrakh and the composer in 1944 (available
in Britain at the time on Decca 78s).
Shortly after that came Louis Kaufman’s
incredibly fast recording with Rachmilovich
in 1946 but Ricci’s came just in time
to precede Kogan and Monteux’s sensational
’58 disc, made in Boston. Compared with
the Oistrakh and the Kogan, Ricci is,
perhaps surprisingly to those who have
assumed him a speed merchant here, rather
sedate when it comes to tempi. His is
an approach long on atmosphere and lyricism
but, at times, rather missing out on
the one thing Ricci usually provides
which is daredevil panache. He’s a full
two minutes slower than Oistrakh in
the first movement, a minute and a half
slower in the second and half a minute
slower in the finale. These matters
of tempo demonstrate that Ricci’s priorities
here are clarity of exposition and a
generally unhurried approach to inner
part writing – and matters such as the
dialogue between the soloist and the
clarinettist in the first movement cadenza
for example. The expressive drama at
the crest of the second movement, with
its powerful brass-led writing, is the
more noble and coursing because of the
slightly slower speed. Ricci’s passagework
in the finale is clear and biting and
plenty of orchestral detail is allowed
to register. As befits Ricci’s imperturbable
individuality this is an individual
reading and unusually relaxed.
As a conspectus of
Ricci’s Decca recordings from a single
decade this splendid set strikes an
innovative balance between his canonical
Paganini and the equally adventurous,
though much less well known, Hindemith
and Prokofiev. It covers the concerto
and solo repertoire and gives us a glimpse
of one of his sonata partnerships. Above
all it reminds us constantly of the
questing musicianship and provocative
tonal resources of a musical and discographic
pathfinder.
Jonathan Woolf