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
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