Ludwig van BEETHOVEN (1770-1827)
Violin Concerto in D Op. 61 (1806) [36:14]
Piano Trio No.5 in D Op.70 No.1 Ghost (1808) [22:39]
Louis Zimmermann (violin)
Orchestra/Charles Woodhouse
Concertgebouw Trio (Louis Zimmermann (violin): Marix Loevensohn (cello); Jaap
Spaanderman (piano))
rec. 1926, London (concerto); 1930, Amsterdam (Trio)
HISTORIC RECORDINGS HRCD00100 [58:53]
Louis Zimmermann (1873-1954) was a lucky man. Not only did he make the first
electric recording of the Beethoven Violin Concerto but his 1940 live broadcast
with Mengelberg has also been preserved. This is a considerably better return
for the Concertgebouw concertmaster than many of the elite soloists of the
day, who were never able to record their interpretations once, let alone twice.
The live 1940 performance is on Tahra 420/21 (review)
and in part I must cannibalise that review to introduce the soloist.
For thirty-five years, barring a small interruption, he was leader of the
Concertgebouw orchestra. He was also a chamber player of repute whose only
major chamber recording was of the Ghost Trio. He did make two major
concerto recordings - the Bach Double for Decca in 1935 with his fellow leader
Hellmann, under Mengelberg, and of the work under discussion, Beethoven’s
Violin Concerto on which occasion he was accompanied by an unnamed orchestra
and conductor Charles Woodhouse, a set that, as I noted at the time, I’d
never seen or heard, but had been released on Dutch Columbia. Zimmermann was
fifty-three in 1926. Many years before, his colleague Carl Flesch, then living
and teaching in Amsterdam, gave a musical snapshot of him as having a "rounded
somewhat weichlich tone" (“weichlich” was glossed as "effeminate").
He also accused him of overdoing his portamentos but noted that as an orchestral
player "he was experienced and quick-witted".
This studio recording sees Zimmermann in significantly better technical and
tonal estate than that rather disastrous 1940 live reading. There are however
still moments of distinct executant crisis, a number of garish downward portamenti,
slack tonal responses and an unwarmed tonal palette. The result is playing
of late nineteenth century character. Zimmermann employs plenty of staccati,
tempo fluctuations, and other expressive devices, but he speeds up in faster
passages, almost always indicative of a loss of technical control. He also
has some audible co-ordination problems. His conductor, Charles Woodhouse,
was an experienced violinist and chamber player who had his own eponymous
quartet. He was also associated with Henry Wood, whose orchestra he led for
many years, in the same way that Zimmermann led for Mengelberg. In fact Woodhouse
used to conduct the orchestra in rehearsal so that Wood could balance it.
Both violinists probably met many years earlier when Zimmermann had lived
and taught in London. Woodhouse sets a brisk cum stately tempo for the slow
movement, and Zimmerman controls his slides better here. The finale is dry
and workmanlike with insufficient rhythmic resilience all round. The recording
is also rather personalised. There’s a very boomy bass, and considerable
congestion in the tuttis. The string section doesn’t sound overly large.
In addition to Zimmermann’s wandering intonation and the rather weird
sounding orchestra wind tuning - this was an ad hoc London orchestra - there
are a few fluffs along the way from the band.
Still, this recording has long escaped collectors. Recorded in London, it
was only ever issued in Holland by Dutch Columbia. It hardly displaced the
earlier acoustic performances of the work by Juan Manén, Josef Wolfsthal
and Isolde Menges, except in terms of recording quality, and would soon be
swept away by Kreisler’s recording, amongst others.
It’s coupled with the Ghost Trio with his Concertgebouw colleagues.
This is a somewhat hollow-sounding 1930 Parlophone. The ensemble is pretty
solid and the performance a good one. Expressive exaggerations are kept to
a minimum, unless one includes rallentandi. But the big, very noticeable slowing
down at 2:55 in the first movement is not an index of the trio’s self-indulgence
but a preparation for the side change. This was part and parcel of recording
practice of the time, but on a CD transfer it can sound somewhat baffling
and structurally nonsensical. Listening to things on 78 leaves one with a
different impression; after all, no performer at the time ever expected their
recordings one day to be ‘joined up’ in this way. Whereas Mark
Obert-Thorn transferred the Concerto, this trio is the work of Rolf den Otter.
The former has done a good job indeed, especially in dealing with pitch problems.
The latter is pretty good too, but has a sticky side-join at 3:42 in the finale.
Playing my 78 set of the recording against his transfer shows he’s lost
a touch of room ambience, though given that the Parlophone concerned was rather
noisy I can understand the decision.
This is certainly an archival novelty, and I suspect it won’t be of
much interest to most readers. I however found it fascinating!
Jonathan Woolf
An archival novelty.