The Viennese conductor Josef Krips has been enjoying a renaissance
of late, with his recordings of Haydn, Beethoven, Schubert and
Mendelssohn being released on Eloquence. The French recording
company Cascavelle has also been mining the archives for Krips’
recordings with French orchestras. In this release Krips conducts
the Orchestre National de la Radio-Télévision
Française in Beethoven repertoire he would have known
very well.
Beethoven’s Violin Concerto, op. 61 has long taken its
place with the Brahms, Mendelssohn and Elgar concertos as one
of the peaks of the violin repertoire. It has an eloquent simplicity
that it shares with the “Archduke” piano trio, the
slow movement of the “Appassionata” sonata, and
other works from Beethoven’s middle period. This recording
by the 38-year old Isaac Stern has a freshness that a great
player can bring to a thoroughly familiar work. The opening
timpani notes come across clearly, followed by some rather acid-toned
woodwinds. Krips sets a spacious tempo for the first movement,
which he does not deviate from to any great extent. Stern’s
solo entry has warmth and sweetness of tone; he is very closely
recorded, being unnaturally forward in the balance. Fortunately
he is in great form, playing the long phrases of arpeggios and
other passage-work eloquently and with very accurate intonation.
He and Krips have a good understanding, and the performance
flows very naturally. There are a few sonic speckles and rattles
which I suspect are coughs from the audience. The chorale-like
phrases which begin the second movement are carefully built
up, and Stern’s exchanges with the woodwinds are sensitively
done. His legato playing is very fine, especially in the high-lying
passage with pizzicato accompaniment. There is a patch of watery
sound towards the end of the movement. The resolute opening
of the finale is enthusiastically attacked. Krips again sets
a near ideal tempo, fast enough to be lively but not so fast
as to feel rushed. Stern plays this movement with impressive
agility and an infectious sense of enjoyment. This is really
sparkling playing, and the applause at the end is generous.
Arthur Grumiaux recorded the Beethoven twice to my knowledge.
The earlier of these was with the New Philharmonia conducted
by Alceo Galliera, and dates from 1966. Grumiaux’s approach
is more elegant than Stern’s, and the first movement is
even more spacious at 24:07 (versus 23:15). The recording is
superior, with a more natural balance. However there is a visceral
excitement about the music-making in the Stern that makes one
forgive its occasional rough edges.
Krips and the ORTF continue with an intense performance of Coriolan.
The beginning has terrific impact and unanimity, and the sense
of drama is strong. Unfortunately the tuttis, and the pizzicato
chords at the end, are not quite together. Even with these reservations,
the performance is certainly a lot more exciting than Stephen
Gunzenhauser’s with the Slovak Philharmonic Orchestra
on Naxos.
Unfortunately the performance of the Beethoven First Symphony
that concludes the disc is not up to the standard of the first
two works. Krips’ tempos are again well chosen, allowing
the music to breathe but the orchestra tends to lag the beat,
giving a sogginess to the ensemble. As a result this is dogged
rather than invigorating. Despite being recorded seven years
later, the sound is raw and edgy. Kurt Masur’s 1990 recording
with the Gewandhaus Orchestra Leipzig has far more refinement
and vivacity: the first movement is almost a minute faster than
Krips’, at 8:28 as against 9:23. The Gewandhaus may not
be in the same league as the Berlin, Vienna or Concertgebouw
orchestras, but the superiority of this performance provides
a stark reminder of how standards of orchestral playing have
improved since 1965.
Guy Aron