Kapell was being groomed
for a career as a sonata partner - on
disc at least. He accompanied Heifetz,
for instance, in Brahms’ Op.108 sonata
(also on Naxos) and proved an adept
foil for the picky violinist. It’s galling,
yet fruitless now to consider how much
more of the sonata repertoire he might
have committed to disc had his tragic
death not intervened. Plans were certainly
well advanced for more.
This makes the existence
of the Rachmaninov sonata with Edmund
Kurtz all the more precious an artefact.
This recording superseded the earlier
Columbia made by Marcel Hubert and Shura
Cherkassky (an unlikely pairing on the
face of it) and had Feuermann still
been alive in 1947 it would have been,
despite Kurtz’s Russian birth, natural
territory for him. The fact was that
Feuermann wasn’t alive and it was Kurtz,
now most famous for the Toscanini-led
Dvorak concerto performance that has
circulated over the years, not least
on Naxos, who was invited to record
it. Kurtz, who died as recently as 2004,
studied with Klengel and Alexanian,
was profoundly influenced by Casals,
and had a piano trio with the Spivakovsky
brothers. He played in the Prague German
Opera under Szell and had been recording
since his 1927 German Polydors. Milhaud
dedicated his second Cello Concerto
to Kurtz.
I’ve concentrated more
on the cellist because he’s much the
less well known of the two. The 1947
RCA Victor, which has been transferred
from a set of 45s, was recorded at a
rather low level and definition was
only so-so; there’s a rather cloudy,
occluded sound. Kurtz proves not to
be in the tensile Feuermann mould at
all – more pliant, possibly more Germanic
in tone production. He can exude colour
in the earthier moments of the Allegro
scherzando but takes care to ensure
a flowing tempo in the slow movement.
It’s an eloquent though occasionally
reticent reading.
Kapell plays with commendable
refinement throughout, qualities he
had shown the previous year in his gimmick-free
recording of the B flat Beethoven Concerto.
He was teamed with Golschmann, an occasionally
unnervingly flaccid conductor, but one
who here is on decent rhythmic form.
The RCA sound is up-front and personal
but it catches Kapell’s crisp, clear
runs and precise articulation. The first
movement cadenza is well executed and
the slow movement is fluency itself,
very easygoing but the finale finds
Kapell leaning to the scherzando
side of the Allegro. In all it’s a warm
hearted and agile traversal. We also
have the bonus of the Schubert collection,
rather dry sounding but resounding to
the wit of his Waltz in B minor and
the pocket drama of the German Dance
in B flat. That he could cultivate warmth
even in these smaller works can immediately
be heard in the B flat German Dance.
The transfers have
utilised a variety of source material
and the results are attractive, given
some of the inherent problems of the
original recordings. Kapell is the focus
obviously but Kurtz’s Rachmaninov makes
for instructive listening as well and
is not to be neglected.
Jonathan Woolf
see also review by
Chris
Howell and Colin
Clarke