If Pierre Rode was one of the scions of the early nineteenth
century French School ushered in by Viotti then Jean Baptiste,
Charles Dancla was one of that century’s last great classical
exponents. He’s remembered now really only by violin specialists
for works rather more virtuosically inclined than the work
recorded here, the twelve salon morceaux that form his
Petite École
de la mélodie. Certainly many fiddle players would have
at least come across his
Ecole du mécanisme or
the Etudes brillantes, though
the pieces that form the
Petite École are aimed directly
at much less advanced students and aim at exploring a singing,
legato lyricism – they were published in three volumes by
Schott but I’ve not pinpointed an actual date of composition
if indeed there was one. Dancla may have written through
his performing life and collated them for Schott.
Given the foregoing there is really little to be said
of them other than that they are graceful salon pieces full
of the kind verdant lyricism that Dancla had so clearly admired
in his own model, Vieuxtemps, though I wouldn’t wish to suggest
any kinship beyond that. These are didactic, pedagogic pieces
after all. The first is beautifully spun, whilst No.2 is
a waltz of gentle grace. The Fourth is a perky little
Moderato
e risoluto whilst No.5 is a wanly textured chanson. An
effortlessly vocalised legato motors the Polka, whilst No.9,
a
Romanza, has a beguiling Raff-like character. There’s
a poised Salon Mazurka (No.11) that speeds up wittily toward
the end and a genial
Introduction e Rondo to end.
None lasts longer than three and a half minutes. They’re
played with apposite sensitivity. These are all premiere
recordings
The Parisian milieu of the disc is increased by virtue
of Saint-Saëns’s
oft-recorded First Sonata. Many will swear by the two Heifetz
recordings, but I go back further to André Pascal and Isidor
Philipp from 1935 as a test case performance. In the accepted
modern manner however the Rimonda-Canziani duo offers a less
urgent reading and are more refulgently romantic throughout.
The Adagio is unaffected if sometimes a bit lateral and the
French ethos doesn’t really come through; Canziani uses a
lot more pedal than the great pianist Philipp did and Pascal
offers many players a lesson in tart and intoxicating expressive
plangency without wielding an especially big tone (he was
a chamber player principally). Otherwise this is a pleasing,
if small-scaled performance.
The ‘encore’ is the ubiquitous Massenet. I could have
done without it and welcomed something else even if it was
Fauré’s wonderful but over-recorded First Sonata. At fifty-seven
minutes there was room for better programme making, especially
as the Dancla is valuable to have but really ultimately inessential.
I think the booklet notes might have pruned the Proust stuff
and have dug out a picture of Dancla. The only picture of
a composer is of Massenet and he occupies five minutes of
this disc and, anyway, we all know what he looked like. Sorry
to gripe but it could all have been better done.
Jonathan Woolf
Guido Rimonda
(violin) 
