First, a minor mystery regarding the sound engineering on these
recordings. The recording information on this IDIS issue is
lamentably scant, but insofar as I can tell from some cursory
research, the Enigma was recorded for Pye in June 1956
by Mercury engineers in the Free Trade Hall, Manchester. However,
the Theme itself is in mono and stereo begins only at the start
of the first Variation. This is unsettling, especially as the
violins sustain a B natural forming the link between the two
movements, during which the aural picture changes abruptly from
mono to stereo. I have no idea why; perhaps the beginning of
the stereo tape was lost or damaged, or someone threw a switch
at the close of the Theme. This was a time of experimentation
in stereo but you would hardly guess it from the superlative
quality of these analogue recordings, made on 35 mm film rather
than half inch recording tape, according to standard Mercury
practice.
Pye presumably did not have stereo equipment in June 1956, yet
they recorded the Elegy and the Introduction and
Allegro for Strings later in stereo in the December of
that same year. Presumably they would therefore have recorded
this Cello Concerto in stereo in June 1957 yet here it appears
in mono – excellent mono, to be sure, but old technology nonetheless.
Again, perhaps the original stereo master was lost, damaged
or in some manner unsatisfactory.
Thus we are left with the Enigma (except for the opening
Theme) and the Elegy in stereo, with the Cello Concerto
sandwiched between them in mono, even though it was recorded
in the year following those first two items.
This 2011 re-mastering by Danilo Prefumo for IDIS is also puzzling.
Although the sound per se is superb, despite some slight screech
on the upper strings in the mono tracks, the pauses in between
tracks in the Cello Concerto are irritatingly short and consist
of audible “dead sound” rather than the ambient noise and slight
hiss which would suggest the continuity of a concert, as if
he had not selected “flac lossless”. Worse, the ends of the
Cello Concerto and “Elegy” are cut short before the sound has
faded away naturally; I cannot imagine that this is the fault
of the original recording. IDIS provides no notes or recording
information beyond “Studio recording” and the year; all we have
are track-listings.
Yet this is still a very enjoyable and valuable disc, such is
the quality of the performances. They have been somewhat overshadowed
by his recordings made in the 1960s for EMI with the LSO and
the Philharmonia, yet the Hallé sounds their equal here. Barbirolli’s
way with Elgar was never over-reverential; indeed he could seem
brisk were it not for the genial manner in which he so carefully
brings out details and constantly makes telling, minute adjustments
to phrasing. His accounts of the Enigma Variations
and Cello Concerto are amongst the swiftest on record – only
Pierre Fournier’s version of the latter with the Berlin Philharmonic
is faster. Barbirolli’s interpretation of Nimrod could
seem even a little peremptory to the casual listener – but it
isn’t; his tempo is more Andante than Adagio
yet still builds very satisfyingly from some really soft, delicate
playing to a noble climax without courting sentimentality.
Barbirolli has clearly envisioned the Enigma Variations
as an affectionate tribute to friends rather than some monumental
statement and his interpretation reflects that affection in
its wit and warmth. While I still enjoy a more grand and stately
manner such as Zubin Mehta and the Los Angeles Philharmonic
bring to this music in my wild-card favourite recording from
1972, Barbirolli’s approach seems to me to be much more in the
true Elgarian spirit, avoiding any hint of bombast. Elgar’s
tribute to his wife (No.II) is tenderly phrased, Troyte
(No.VII) is wonderfully animated, the Intermezzo is
charmingly graceful, the Romanza (No.VII) passionate
and the Finale thrilling, complete with organ. This
is not Elgar the patriotic old buffer, but the composer as a
subtle and sensitive soul.
There is no doubt that this account of the Cello Concerto with
André Navarra has been overshadowed by Barbirolli’s later recording
with Jacqueline du Pré, yet apart from the obvious disadvantage
of mono sound it is by no means necessarily inferior. From the
very opening, Navarra’s attack tells us that this will be a
virile, direct interpretation without affectation or undue melancholy.
There is always room for du Pré’s freer, more rhapsodic approach
or Lloyd Webber’s more thoughtful and ponderous delivery, but
in spirit Navarra is closest to the aforementioned recording
by another French cellist, Fournier with the Berlin Philharmonic
in 1965. He brings a richness and depth of tone to the music,
sharing Navarra’s lack of artifice or striving for conscious
effect, but also has the advantage over Navarra of sumptuous
sound. However, he is in fact recorded too close, with the orchestra
pushed into the background. Furthermore, seductive though Fournier
is, I do not think he is technically quite as adept as Navarra:
a few slips and imprecisions creep in and his Finale
lacks the requisite tension, although the aristocratic poise
and inner fire of his version still carry the day for me.
Navarra had a neater, more slender sound with a fast vibrato;
it is leaner than Fournier or du Pré, who had a uniquely plush
tone. The first movement is robust and defiant. In the Lento
of the second movement, he is not as overtly elegiac as du Pré’s,
but he is always musical and impassioned and both steadier and
more tonally centred than Lloyd Webber. Nobody, however, matches
du Pré’s tightness and accuracy in the tumbling semi-quavers
of the Allegro molto or her joyous emphasis of the
pizzicato flourish concluding that bravura passage. Yet in the
famous Adagio, Navarra’s command of graded dynamics,
the long line and his nuanced phrasing are especially striking.
The Finale, to borrow a fellow reviewer’s phrase, “swaggers
cockily”, recapturing the defiant note of the opening and ending
more positively than more desolate interpretations.
Finally, the 1956 Elegy is, I think, superior to the
stereo account of ten years later: it conveys a more poignant
conviction, making the slightly premature cut-off all the more
regrettable.
Despite its technical flaws and peculiarities this is a disc
to give great pleasure to the connoisseur of the partnership
between Elgar and Barbirolli.
Ralph Moore
André Navarra (cello)