James Ehnes is one of my favourite contemporary violinists. He has the
killer
combination of superb technique allied to marvellous musicianship and an
ability
to embrace a wide range of repertoire. All of which would seem to guarantee
a
fine disc here of an interesting coupling. Which is why I am scratching my
head
as to why this has left me somewhat underwhelmed. Ehnes' technique easily
stands
the slightly forensic nature of the Onyx recording. My main concern is a
faint
air of the routine that pervades the accompaniment.
This is especially true of the opening movement of the Britten. In
Britten's centenary year it comes as no surprise that there has been an
avalanche of recordings. This disc competes directly with a Chandos release
featuring Tasmin Little. I have not heard that performance but it seems to
have been well received and has a logical/interesting coupling of Britten's
Piano Concerto. In whatever performance it is striking what a confidently
assured work this is. Not that that means it is without flaws but simply
that the young composer - just 25 when work on the piece began - is able to
make big and sweeping musical gestures even if the work lacks the cumulative
power of the more mature Shostakovich that shares the disc. Malcolm
MacDonald’s typically lucid liner characterises the opening of the
work as restless, melancholic and sensuous. I find Karabits strangely
literally so that the swaying Spanish rhythm of much of the accompaniment is
oddly foursquare and quite at odds with Ehnes' dynamism. If anything Ehnes
over compensates and the solo line - while played with great technical
brilliance - feels overly forceful. Direct comparison with either Lorraine
McAslan on Collins (latterly Naxos), Ida Haendel on EMI or even Sergej
Azizian in the IntenseMedia "Britten 100" box find all those players playing
with greater sinuous fantasy. I rather like McAslan’s near reticent
approach for this opening - there will be plenty of opportunities for
dominant display in the work later. Apparently Britten started work on the
piece having recently encountered the Berg violin concerto. Certainly it has
an elegiac near sombre quality which allied to the extreme difficulty of the
solo part has meant that it has not entered the repertoire in the way other
early Britten works have.
The spiky second subject group suits Ehnes' dynamic approach better
but even here the playing of the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra for all its
commendable neatness lacks the urgent acidic bite it surely requires. When
this subsides back to the languor of the opening theme - with the solo part
taking over the accompanying role with the rhythmic cell and the massed
violins playing the main melody - the playing sounds efficiently bland
[track 1 - 5:50]. Perhaps others will detect a subtler hand at work than I.
Again, comparisons to the above show a range of responses but I would say
each is better than the one here. Interestingly, it is Haendel - also in
Bournemouth - who is closest to Ehnes - less wistful than McAslan, less
fluent than Azizian - but she benefits from a far more engaged conductor in
Berglund and better integrated EMI analogue engineering.
The second movement
Vivace is an immediate and substantial
improvement - the music's devilish energy chiming with Ehnes' style just as
it works against McAslan - the earlier apt reflectiveness now sounding
simply cautious. Haendel - probably proving why her reading has endured in
the catalogue - finds an ideal middle-way between either interpretative
extreme. The closing movement reflects Britten's abiding fascination for a
particular form; the Passacaglia. It flows directly from the extended
cadenza that links the scherzo to the finale. For Ehnes the cadenza is a
hugely impressive vehicle for virtuoso display. For me the pendulum swings
back towards McAslan who gives little to Ehnes in sheer technical address
but is more capricious. I rather like conductor Steuart Bedford's wearily
heavy opening to the Passacaglia - a burdened tread that builds inexorably
to a powerful climax before the soloist's furtive entrance. Against that
Ehnes seems to tell no extra-musical story. There are clear pre-echoes of
the Passacaglia Britten would write in
Peter Grimes; there the
inevitable repetition of the music's harmonic pattern giving a fateful
inexorability to the drama. Does it seem too melodramatic to give the
concerto a similar interpretation? Instinct tells me not - especially with
the militaristic brass writing that pervades the instrumental textures. In
response to this the soloist embarks on an ever more manic skittering
display of passage-work; Haendel at her most impressive. Likewise the 1970s
Bournemouth heavy brass loom over proceedings like some gathering storm - it
makes for an overwhelming climax. Karabits by choosing a fractionally more
flowing tempo misses out on the cathartic arrival and in fact the Onyx
recording offers no substantial improvement on EMI's thirty-five year old
effort. That being said the sheer quality of Ehnes' playing of the closing
pages is irresistible. In fact, having spent considerable time in the
company of this concerto - in its various versions - while writing this
review my estimation of it as a work has increased. It’s certainly a
work that deserves wider renown, even if that proves to be through
recordings other than the one under consideration here.
The coupling of the Shostakovich First Concerto is interesting. They
were a pair of composers who grew to have a great personal and professional
mutual respect. Karabits seems more at ease with the musical and emotional
landscape of this work. Again, I miss the visceral engagement that other
conductors bring to this music. Written nearly a decade later than the
Britten (1947) it was born into the storm of the Zhdanov decree with charges
of "western-style formalism" being levelled at any work that was perceived
as not conforming to Soviet ideals. Given that this work was the first
extensively to explore its composer's fascination with motifs based on his
own initials - DSCH - which was about as anti the collective ideal as one
could get - it is no surprise that Shostakovich suppressed the score until
Stalin was dead and artistic purges had died down. For all the skill of the
Britten, the Shostakovich goes a step further and is a truly great work.
The four movements are titled
Nocturne,
Scherzo,
Passacaglia (and cadenza),
Burlesque. The opening
Nocturne MacDonald characterises as having a "... cataleptic, almost
mystical calm". What I find most mystifying about Karabits' accompaniment is
a near total absence of dynamic gradation. Shostakovich's highly idiomatic
scoring is full of subtle adjustments of dynamic and phrasing - the
Bournemouth players produce a uniformly beautiful mezzo-something. Ehnes' is
guilty of this type of dynamic generalisation too - but having said that so
is dedicatee David Oistrakh on EMI accompanied by Shostakovich
fils
with the New Philharmonia. Big ‘but’ though: Oistrakh brings a
wholly different level of emotional torque to his performance. This sense of
the generalised makes the landscape of this movement hard to define.
Shostakovich has written something that deliberately verges on the
monotonous - there are minor undulations and subtle valleys to observe but
no great Alpine peaks. That being said it requires a super-sensitive
approach to the nuances that there are or an ability to hold a level of
focused intensity that is beyond this interpretation. To be sure, all is
present and correct and finely played but only in direct comparison - again
- do the shortcomings become clear.
Aside from Oistrakh, I listened to Vengerov with Rostropovich on
Warner and Mordkovich with Jarvi on Chandos. For whatever reason, those
three Russian players all find a chilled lamenting quality that eludes
Ehnes. Mordkovich - her disc won a Gramophone award I seem to recall - is
willing to risk all in the search for a 'meaning' in this music that
transcends the notes alone. Alongside her Ehnes feels emotionally reticent.
As with the Britten, I have to stress that this might well be a slow-burn
approach that others prefer finding Mordkovich or Haendel too overt even
unsubtle. In the two scherzo movements - aided by his stunningly clean and
articulate playing - Ehnes emphasises the mercurial and divisive elements.
Next to him Mordkovich can sound 'rougher' - as much emotionally as
technically. She also has a tendency to strain at the collective leash,
pushing ever onwards, leaving one with a sense of the music teetering on the
edge of a precipice. For other works and other composers this palpable
danger might be unsettling and simply wrong - in Shostakovich it adds to the
theatre of the work and I prefer it. Karabits' well-drilled and very neat
Bournemouth players don't sound as though they are risking anything. In
isolation the work/recording impresses because it is a wonderful piece well
played. Alongside versions that dig deeper into the soul of the work it is
found wanting.
Overall, an unexpected disappointment. Ehnes is too fine a violinist and
musician
to ever produce anything poor but the fact remains that for all the
technical
brilliance on display many other performances dig deeper into the souls of
these
two fine works.
Nick Barnard
Masterwork Index:
Shostakovich
violin concertos
Britten discography & review index:
Violin
concerto
