Unlike Paganini, the Moravian violinist Heinrich Wilhelm Ernst
– their careers overlapped, indeed Ernst was something of a
musical son – has not garnered a large discography. It’s not
surprising. Violinists seem to operate on the principle that
if you’re going to essay the works of one wrist-crunching, finger-stretching
nineteenth century composer-executant of genius, let it be Paganini.
This leaves Ernst in the recorded wilderness, and other than
the Last Rose of Summer variations and one or two other
pieces – especially those that appeal to the intrepid solo violinist
– the bulk of his other works, especially those for violin and
piano, have lain relatively discarded.
He wasn’t always neglected; and there have been pockets of interest
over the years. Indeed, if you go back far enough you’ll find
two very early recordings of two pieces in this recital; Jan
Rudenyi recorded an abridgement of the Carnaval de Venise
variations back in 1905, and Hugo Heermann, an important German
violinist, recorded the Second of the Op.8 Nocturnes at around
the same time, albeit in an arrangement for violin and orchestra.
But of far more significance is that Sherban Lupu himself has
already recorded some Ernst with Peter Pettinger for Continuum
[CCD1017] – back in 1990 they set down the Adagio sentimentale
op.13, Airs hongrois variés Op.22, the Op.17 Polonaise,
and the Rondo Papageno, the last of which he reprises
here for Toccata Classics. The others will follow in subsequent
volumes, of which there are to be six in total, along with new
editions of the works in question, edited by Lupu and published
by Toccata.
Lupu proves a lordly exponent. Ernst was quick off the mark
with his Fantasie brillante sur le Prophète – Meyerbeer’s
opera had been written the previous year – and Lupu demonstrates
a splendid command of both its more static legato moments and
its increasingly virtuosic demands. One really needs wrists
of velvet steel to encompass the demands placed on them, not
least in the broken chord passage – but Lupu keeps the line
intact despite all this, even though there is some rough bowing
around the three minute mark of the Andantino pastorale
section. That is part of Lupu’s fearless approach to these works,
and he’s not afraid of a resinous or crunching attack when the
occasion calls for it. He’s notably nuanced in the Nocturnes,
spinning a noble operatic legato in the E major, the more famous
one, and dispatches the cadential passage with sang froid. I
admire him and Toccata all the more for not splicing an accidental
string touch.
The Carnaval de Venise variations is one of his best
known pieces, at least to the string fraternity. With left hand
pizzicatos, octave leaps, fearsome harmonics and the like, this
calls for some superhuman bowing and left hand feats, feats
indeed of digital gymnastics. What with this, it’s necessary
also to convey something of the sheer wit, gall and theatrical
outrageousness of the writing, something Lupu does in spades.
Each variation is separately tracked here – in fact Toccata
is scrupulous about separate banding, so that these nine pieces
generate a total of 43 separate tracks.
The Op.13 Morceaux make for a contrasting pair; the first is
a scena and there’s the gentle lyricism of the second. For all
the fire and brimstone, one must not forget Ernst the charmer.
The Thème Allemand Varié is a first recording, and so
is the Rondo Allemand – it was co-written with pianist
Charles Schunke (1801-1839) - whilst the Carnaval de Venise
is heard fully, intact, for the first time here. That’s a particularly
notable feature of a series like this, something one could also
note of, say, Hungaroton’s Hubay series. We end with a piece
Lupu played on that Continuum disc, the Rondo Papageno,
another devilish finger-buster, and something of an experimental
number, which plays with The Magic Flute figure and displays
the violinist’s technique with dramatic flourish.
The excellent notes are by Mark Rowe, who has written a biography
of the composer, and production values are high. The recorded
balance rather favours Lupu over Hobson. Other than that, this
is a formidable start to the Ernst series.
Jonathan Woolf