Frederic Lamond - Rare Broadcasts and
Selected Recordings
Fredric Lamond (piano)
Concertgebouw Orchestra/Eduard van Beinum
rec. 1921-45
MARSTON 52071-2 [77:37 + 73:32]
The lineage of the Great Beethovenian Pianist has
something of the mythic about it. It is both superlative and
necessarily elective, something Schnabel alluded to in ‘My life and
music’, where he refers to the displacement of d’Albert by Frederic
Lamond and then the Scotsman, by implication, by himself. Each King
flourishes for a time and is then ruthlessly supplanted.
Though Rachmaninoff is often cited as the great loss to the Beethoven
sonata discography (he was either not formally asked, or declined) it’s
interesting to consider how different things might have been had Lamond
been asked to record the sonata cycle for HMV rather than Schnabel. He
was certainly considered for the responsibility, though in retrospect
it’s easy to see how Schnabel, who conquered London with the cycle in
1930, should have proved so attractive a prospect. There was something
about Lamond’s ruggedness and wildness that spoke of the late
nineteenth-century; Schnabel by contrast was the contemporary who had
long been awaited. He married the intellectual with the pianistic,
whereas there was - again in contradistinction - a sense that Lamond
was intuitive and subject to an overly rough-hewn Beethovenian vision.
Yet Lamond’s credentials were outstanding. Born in 1868, he was
successively a pupil of Max Schwarz, von Bülow and for the final two
years of his life, Liszt. He was, indeed, one of Liszt’s last surviving
pupils. His Berlin debut came in 1885, and though his career was to be
truncated by the Second World War, when he returned from Germany (where
he had spent his adult professional life) to the country of his birth,
he was performing until fairly shortly before his death in 1948. In
truth, Lamond had seemed outclassed by the younger technicians with
their more streamlined aesthetic long before. He was effectively
dropped by HMV and few recordings were made after 1930. Yet the mere
fact of his displacement, and the fact that his recordings were for so
long absent - hardly anything was reissued for 70 years or so -
shouldn’t persuade one that Lamond was merely a representative of
retrogressive emotionalism. On the contrary he was a remarkable
musician whose insights will richly reward the perceptive listener who
wishes to take a long-term perspective on the history of Beethoven
(here, mainly) and Liszt performance on disc.
The vast majority of his recordings were made for HMV in London, a
sequence that began in 1919 and ended in 1930; three discs were issued
by Electrola in the mid-1930s and then just one 1941 Decca. His
discography, not unsurprisingly, is dominated by Beethoven and Liszt.
There was very little evidence of Lamond on CD until Biddulph released
two outstanding single discs in the late 1990s, which contained the Emperor
Concerto, recorded acoustically in 1922, and the sequence of
electrically recorded sonatas, some of which replaced his acoustic
recordings (Biddulph LHW042 and LHW043). APR also released an
invaluable all-Liszt CD [APR5504]. Much earlier, back in 1991, Pearl
issued a miscellaneous Lamond disc which did well to include music by
Glinka, Brahms and Rubinstein in addition to a lot of Liszt.
What were largely missing were the acoustic sonata sides, and this is
what Marston has now restored. The Moonlight sonata
reveals Lamond’s somewhat objectified approach to slow movements - he’s
never the most overtly expressive of pianists - but also an
impetuous-sounding slant to the finale. He’s more paragraphal, and less
frenzied, in the 1926 remake. His 1923 Appassionata
is imbued with a tremendous sense of drama and vivid wildness - again
rather more so than in the case of the 1927 electric recording - and
graced by a ringing treble and perfectly audible left-hand pointing of
harmonies; de-synchronous often in chording, but never subordinated.
The E-flat sonata, Op.31 No.3 is represented only by the Scherzo
and Menuetto, recorded over a year apart, and thus
a composite; in the latter he makes no attempt to be ingratiating, or grazioso,
as marked - instead there’s a rough-hewn, choppy sense of rhythm which
is truly doughty Beethovenian projection. He’s slightly freer and more
communicative - and faster - in this acoustic 1922 Waldstein
sonata than in the later recording. Interpretatively it conforms to a
small yet distinctive pattern over a very short period of time, as he
drew toward his 60th year, and beyond. The
acoustics preserve the more trenchant and monumental part of his sonata
discography.
When Lamond returned to England his agents, Ibbs & Tillett,
promoted him in a number of recitals across the country. His solo
recitals included an all-Chopin sequence, which may well surprise those
who think he didn’t play the composer’s music. On the contrary - he
did, and he recorded a little too. It’s a pity that a Fauré recording
for HMV was never issued. That, most certainly, is not repertoire one
would ever associate with the rugged Lamond. Early in the War, perhaps
to ensure a full house, Lamond was teamed with Britain’s leading
violinist, Albert Sammons, for two recitals, in Wolverhampton and
Liverpool. They played the Kreutzer and the Strauss
Violin Sonata. Both men were on the books of Ibbs & Tillett,
and both - significantly - had recently contracted to record for Decca.
My fanciful imagination wishes that someone at the company had had the
foresight to team the two to record the Strauss. Sammons’ long-time
sonata partner, William Murdoch, was then mortally ill with Bright’s
disease. Though Murdoch and Lamond could not have been more different
as musicians - they recorded the Pathétique weeks
apart in 1926 and the results are wildly divergent aesthetically - a
studio meeting of Lamond and Sammons playing Strauss, whom Lamond had
known well for decades, might have been something to hear. A few years
later and Lamond‘s technique was to become frail. But as it is, very
little survives from Lamond’s days in the Decca studios; he recorded
the Moonlight and Waldstein and
four Liszt pieces, and two Chopin Mazurkas. Of this haul, only two
Liszt pieces were released. Very valuably the Chopin Mazurkas survive
in the form of a test pressing and this is what Marston has released;
some of the only extant examples of Lamond’s Chopin - he did record a
single Nocturne - however much of a sliver it is.
Marston adds something else that can be considered invaluable. The two
live concerto recordings are of very considerable interest, adding to
that solitary studio Emperor Concerto with Eugene
Goossens. The Beethoven C minor (October 1939), with van Beinum
conducting the Concertgebouw, shows some digital frailties but more
importantly, despite a slightly ‘spread’ piano sound and some ticks and
scratches, Lamond’s fascinating rubati, which are so prominent a
feature of his musical armoury. The slow movement has integrity; the
finale is rugged with some propulsive entries. The Liszt Concerto is in
scuffier sound but powerfully conceived. At a stroke the release of
these two concert performances increases to three the number of
Lamond’s concertos preserved. I’m not aware from any discography that
anything else survives. Lamond’s 1945 BBC talks, first released on LP
(RRE161), retain their interest through their recall of the young
Lamond’s meetings with Liszt, and of the older man’s continuing legacy.
It’s a delight to listen to his scripted but evocative descriptive
prose. Alas, the Liszt pieces he recorded at around the same time show
a distinct technical decline - but then we are fortunate they were
preserved at all.
The two CDs come with a detailed note from Jonathan Summers and there
are some excellently reproduced photographs. This is a historically
important set, impeccably presented, that stands beside the earlier
discs already noted, and invaluably adds those two live concerto
recordings to expand our appreciation of Lamond’s art still further.
Jonathan Woolf
Masterwork Index: Beethoven
piano concerto 3 ~~ Beethoven piano
sonatas
From a reader, David Pentecost
Recently I made a video
about Lamond for a lecture to a U3A group. I have now uploaded the video to YouTube.
The video tells briefly about Lamond’s life as a pianist, concentrating on his
time as a student of Franz Liszt in 1885-86. Included is his 1945 broadcast
talk made at the BBC Glasgow studios. Two piano solos which Lamond refers to in
his talk are also included, one of them played by Lamond; over 100
illustrations are also included. (I copied the 1945 BBC talk from the reviewed
CD, with permission given by Ward Marston for embedding it in my video).
Information about Lamond’s last recital (in London) before Franz Liszt is also
included, as are lists of the piano works which Lamond played at
Liszt’s masterclasses in Weimar and Rome.
Details
CD 1
Ludwig van BEETHOVEN (1770-1827)
Piano Concerto No. 3 in C Minor, Op. 37 (1800) [34:54]
Franz LISZT (1811-1886)
Piano Concerto No. 2 in A Major,S.125 (1839 rev 1849-61) [21:51]
Gnomenreigen; Concert Study No.2, S.145 (1862-63) [3:56]
Ludwig van BEETHOVEN (1770-1827)
Piano Sonata No. 6 in F Major, Op. 10, No. 2 (1796-97): two movements;
Allegretto [3:32] and Presto [2:29]
Piano Sonata No. 14 in C-sharp Minor, Op. 27, No. 2 “Moonlight” (1801)
[10:55]
CD 2
Piano Sonata No. 18 in E-flat Major, Op. 31, No. 3 (1802): two
movements; Scherzo [3:59] and Menuetto [3:52]
Piano Sonata No. 21 in C Major, Op. 53 “Waldstein” (1803-04) [20:04]
Piano Sonata No. 23 in F Minor, Op. 57 “Appassionata” (1804) [18:29]
Fryderyk CHOPIN (1810-1849)
Mazurka in C-sharp Minor, Op. 63, No. 3 [1:44]
Mazurka in F Minor, Op. 7, No. 3 [2:29]
BBC Broadcasts
Lamond speaks about meeting Liszt [6:40]
Lamond speaks about Liszt’s legacy [7:30]
Liebestraume, S. 541, No. 2 (1850) [3:59]
Transcendental Etude No. 5 “Feux Follets” s.139 (1851) [4:59]
1921-23, Beethoven sonatas, London: 1939, Amsterdam, Beethoven
Concerto: 1937, Amsterdam, Liszt Concerto and Gnomenreigen: 1941,
London, Chopin: 1945, spoken reminiscences and two Liszt pieces
