Here’s a welcome new recording of Elgar’s Violin Concerto. From
the orchestral introduction the emotive flexibility, subtle
shaping of phrasing yet also overall cohesion of expression
is striking. The passionate core of this concerto is epitomized
in its Windflower themes, Elgar’s private name for two themes
in the first movement and Alice Stuart-Wortley who had encouraged
him when he was having difficulty in completing the work. In
this performance there’s urgency to the first appearance of
the first Windflower theme (tr. 1, 0:37) yet a lovely delicacy
to the first violins’ accompanying figurations when it’s repeated
on the second violins (0:57). The second Windflower theme (1:18)
comes with a warmth of emotion in the lower strings and violins’
sighs above which are also sunny. The horns’ descent at 2:43
really is con forza as marked and stimulatingly so. A
unique feature of this recording is that Nikolaj Znaider plays
the 1741 Guarnerius del Gesu violin that the work’s dedicatee,
Fritz Kreisler, played at its premiere. The rich tone of his
opening statement is memorable, yet still more so is the immediately
following fragile sensitivity. Znaider’s cantabile in
his treatment of the first Windflower theme is expressive but
also progressive and yet he finds a melting tenderness in the
second Windflower theme. On the other hand Elgar’s contrasts
of dynamic are carefully observed, such as the gutsy ff
entry at 10:55. The tranquillo passage following is beautifully
reflective, complemented by discreet but expressive cellos’
contributions. Thereafter a restless, quixotic phase is well
caught before being satisfyingly resolved by a sunny affirmation
of the second Windflower theme. Throughout there’s fine interaction
and blend between soloist and orchestra. The recording has the
natural perspective as if you were at a reasonable distance
in a concert performance and is still sufficiently detailed.
You become aware of Znaider’s breathing at some tender moments.
Personally I like this reminder that a human being has to interact
with an instrument to make it sing.
I compared the 2003 recording also conducted by Colin Davis,
this time with the London Symphony Orchestra and soloist Hilary
Hahn (Deutsche Grammophon 4748732). Here are the comparative
timings which differ only marginally.
Timings |
I |
II |
III |
Total |
Znaider/Davis |
17:51 |
12:10 |
19:22 |
49:35 |
Hahn/Davis |
17:59 |
12:18 |
19:26 |
49:49 |
In surround sound, this is a recording of more detailed instrumental
positioning. The orchestral introduction here is more direct
and biting, more active, but the characterful rubato given the
first Windflower theme is arguably overdone and in the second
you’re conscious the tempo is pulled about more. The horns’
con forza descent is rather thrown off. Hahn’s opening
statement has both noble restraint and intense contemplation
but the following cantabile is a touch maudlin, the momentum
too lost. The second Windflower theme is elegiac and eloquently
treated but lacks Znaider’s natural flow. The ff entry
is less strong, the musing thereafter rather studied.
Znaider and Davis’s slow movement (tr. 2) abounds in sensitive
gossamer shading and sweet lyricism. Both have caught the idiom
exactly, in all its passion, waywardness and delicacy. Davis’s
touch is lighter and again more flowing than in his earlier
recording which concentrates on simplicity and transparency
of expression to which Hahn adds a solemn solo. There’s a greater
humanity and spirituality about Znaider and Davis’s interpretation.
The density and subtlety of the writing for string orchestra
is quietly but assuredly in evidence, the way the melodic contours
echo each other and the soloist. You appreciate the hush about
the orchestral interventions following the violin’s first presentation
and then Znaider’s rich, yet still dignified emotive vein, matched
by the weight to the orchestral nobilmente material (from
4:34). But then you also notice the more personal evocation
of the solo horn’s sighs accompanying the violin’s musing from
6:04 before a measured summation and intent yet serene close.
Znaider and Davis’s finale (tr. 3) is one of evident agility
and virtuosity. The march theme (0:52) is firm yet festive.
The second theme (2:13) is richly savoured, a touch wistful
and honoured by ornate decoration before it‘s allowed to soften
and drift away, dreamlike in the upper strings from 2:46. Hahn
and Davis’s finale has a less virtuoso, more scherzo quality
which I also find attractive. Their march theme is lighter but
their second theme more intent. However, the following molto
maestoso is somewhat inflated where Znaider and Davis (1:40)
convey more density, swing and progression: you can see where
it’s going. The return of Znaider and Davis’s second theme is
more strikingly measured: it now contains more assurance in
its grand orchestral statement which points up the following
yearning, intimacy and even whimsy in the soloist’s repeat.
Znaider’s approach to Elgar’s accompanied cadenza (10:13) begins
with a spacious, eloquent recall of the first Windflower theme
from the first movement before this is rhapsodically distilled
in a manner which finely balances rhetoric and lyricism and
has the feel of a fantasia. Then the second Windflower theme
returns (12:45), richly yet rather objectively, a foil to its
distillation which is even more ethereal and spellbindingly
achieved by Znaider. There’s then a concluding unaccompanied
phase to which Znaider brings for me a more welcome urgency
than Hahn, at the same time allowing more contrast in the ritenuti.
Overall Znaider’s cadenza is slightly faster than Hahn’s, timing
at 7:02 against 7:22, and the impression is of a more classical
approach. Hahn’s first Windflower theme opening is more emotive,
sad, withering, where Znaider shows a heroic resilience. Hahn
brings more deliberation to the rhapsodic material which makes
it compelling in a different way but, you might also argue,
more mannered, less flowing than Znaider‘s athletic detachment.
Hahn’s Windflower second theme is a more glowing, sad and elegiac
recall where Znaider emphasises the warmth. The thrumming pizzicato
upper strings’ accompaniment is more intensely realized by the
LSO than the Dresden Staatskapelle, the concentration riveting.
So if you want a more romantic approach, Hahn supplies it. On
the other hand Znaider’s overall measuring of tempo I find more
convincing, never sounding contrived. Znaider and Davis’s coda
is suitably crisp and grand in turn, a pity you can just about
hear what I presume is enthusiastic but groaning like encouragement
at 17:14, 18:08 and from 18:50 similar to that in some live
Davis recordings.
To sum up, while one might quibble at a CD today with a total
playing time of less than 50 minutes, this Znaider/Davis account
is an exceptional, finely rounded performance.
Michael Greenhalgh
see also review
by John Quinn