Topic: Op 47

[Florestan]

Will you review Uto Ughi / Lamar Crowson and Wolfgang Schneiderhan / Carl Seeman?

If you don't have them I'd be only too happy to provide them for you, I'm really very very curious what you'd make of them.

[Todd]

Will you review Uto Ughi / Lamar Crowson and Wolfgang Schneiderhan / Carl Seeman?

If you don't have them I'd be only too happy to provide them for you, I'm really very very curious what you'd make of them.

No.  For this go-round, I am sticking with versions I own only. 

[Florestan]

No.  For this go-round, I am sticking with versions I own only.

Okay.

[Todd]

Two from David Oistrakh and Lev Oborin.  The mono recording starts with Oistrakh's big tone and predictably fine control, and Oborin's able support.  The repeatless movement moves forward with nice energy, and a sense of scale and inevitability, and it picks up in intensity, and never forgoes control, as the music progresses.  The duo introduce a bit of lightness, too.  The Andante theme is presented at a fairly brisk tempo, but sounds appealing, and Oborin plays with no little energy, though clarity lacks a bit in the recording - or is it the playing?  The pair deliver nicely distinct variations, though none sound especially nuanced.  The Presto sounds playful and fun and if not the most vigorous, it sounds a bit light, at least when compared to the opening movement.  Nice.  The stereo recording, taken from the full cycle, starts off with a more subdued Oistrakh, poorly recorded and with a violin that wanders a bit spatially.  The tone sounds more beautiful, but the playing more subdued.  Oborin sounds roughly the same as before.  Then comes the Presto, and it's slower, heavier, and kind of droopy.  And boring.  The movement, though not much different in overall timing from the mono recording, just seems to drag.  The Andante and variations fare a bit better, but Oistrakh, in particular, sounds comparatively lifeless.  The Presto is droopy, slow, and enervated.  Pity the duo didn't record the cycle in the early 50s.

[Todd]

Now for two from the same pianist, one Martha Argerich.  In the earlier recording, Kremer slashes right into the piece, not really seeing a need to go for something slow or searching, and Argerich has no difficulty pairing with him.  The two rush headlong through the opening movement.  Yes, they do back off and play with something more relaxed, Argerich especially.  (Kremer's tone always seems edgy.)  It's high in excitement.  The Andante fares better in the faster variations, which can sound pleasingly light and vibrant, while the slower variations maintain higher than normal levels of tension.  The Presto, launching with Argerichian thunder, ends up predictably high voltage, though one with bounce to go with the edge.  Overall, a high energy, none too shabby take.

In the later recording, Vadim Repin opens with a more beautiful, pristine, and controlled tone in the Adagio sostenuto, while Argerich announces her arrival in a rather pronounced manner.  But then she backs off and plays music with more subtlety than she sometimes does.  As the Presto opens and moves along, Argerich often dominates, but it ends up not mattering because Repin's playing is still so attractive that one just sits back and enjoys.  Too, Argerich varies her touch and even her tempo within brief passages in an audible yet not obtrusive way.  With Repin, the expectation would be that he shine in the Andante and variations, and so he does.  His precision and purity beguile, and here Argerich plays with fine subtlety much of the time.  Sure, the two pep things up when appropriate, and in the fourth variation, rather like Dusinberre and Korevaar, the music takes on a sweet feel, with Argerich again doing a fantastic job softening up her playing, and the last variation takes on a nicely romantic feel.  After more Argerich thunder to open, the concluding Presto is fairly light and ebullient, with Repin bowing away and Argerich doing a quite delightful job using the melody to underpin the violin while punctuating it with some dandily played accompaniment.  When called for, the duo shriek and thwack out the dynamic explosions, and everything just sounds tip-top.  An outstanding rendition.

[Todd]

 



Sticking with one pianist for two recordings, Wilhelm Kempff makes his inevitable appearance with Georg Kulenkampff from the 1930s and Wolfgang Schneiderhan from the 1950s. 

With Kulenkampff, the violinist opens with a vibrato- and portamento-rich Adagio sostenuto, and peak Kempff joins him with playing that is cleanly articulated and nicely dynamic, even through the surface noise.  The duo drop repeats, so the movement comes in at a taut 11'05", and it's about energy and drive.  Kempff proves more fallible than Kulenkampff in the fastest passages, but just as in later years, it miraculously seems to matter not at all.  Kulenkampff seems relaxed and natural with the music, and acts as something of a more romantic foil to Kempff.  The Andante, also cut down, starts with Kempff's just right Beethoven playing, and then Kulenkampff joins in and blends perfectly.  They play the faster music quite lightly, with the violinist gliding above Kempff, who plays some of the faster music both beautifully and entirely unseriously while also being serious.  The Presto is played quickly, with ample drive and rhythmic drive and playfulness.  It's really quite marvelous, and here is recorded evidence than ancient recordings can withstand comparison to later studio efforts filled with judicious editing.

With Scheiderhan, the opening violin salvo is warm and relaxed and not as tight as some preceding versions, but its comfyness is compounded when Kempff enters.  The entire Presto has a sort of more relaxed, lighter feel than some of the hard-hitting versions.  Combined with the sonic constraints of the mono recording, it's almost easy listening, but not quite, and if it were, it would be of the good kind.  The Andante and variations sounds quite leisurely and dynamically limited, a sort of lazy stroll of a good time through the music.  Specific phrases seem to delight in the wit of the writing, or make it sound so when it shouldn't.  It's anti-virtuosic in a way, and more about joy and pleasure.  (One can almost envisage a cartoon of Bugs Bunny frolicking to the playing.)  The Presto, well, it's a bit laid back and dynamically limited, but by this time, the listener simply doesn't care.  (The same would apply if the listener dislikes the approach.)  Not one of the greats, but extremely fine if one succumbs to its charms. 

[Todd]

Veering back to a prior violinist, Georg Kulenkampff joins young Georg Solti for a second recording.  The super-stripped down opening movement starts with a taut Adagio sostenuto, and then in the Presto, the importance of the accompanist becomes obvious as the duo press forward in the faster sections with speed and drive, with nuance lacking and dynamic contrasts played up.  Sounds like Solti.  Kulenkampff ups his game in terms of speed, but the overall effect sounds less enjoyable than his pairing with Kempff.  The taut, more driven nature carries right on into the Andante, which sounds kinda fun but also a bit more like a run-through.  The Presto is swift, firm, and maintains the run-through feel.  The duo are both efficient and effective, but the styles differ and they don't sound as musically amalgamated as other pairings.

[Todd]

Going with two from the same violinst one more time, here Pinky.  In the recording with Barenboim, a young Zukerman opens with a rich tone and measured playing, with Barenboim adding Barenboim level support shortly thereafter.  The transitional music is handled dandily, and the Presto is taken at an energetic but not fast pace.  Wide dynamic contrasts characterize the playing more than zip, which works just fine.  The two trade off between who hogs the limelight, and the playing comes off as refined with some purposeful rough edges.  The pair play the Andante and variations very well, indeed, with ample stylistic changes, and fine and beautiful playing, but at times it sounds like what one expects top students at a conservatory to deliver.  In the stripped down Presto, the duo play with verve and nice dynamic contrasts and deliver a solid overall version.  With Neikrug, Zukerman opens in a strikingly similar manner, just in notably better sound.  Neikrug is less pronounced and distinctive when he enters, almost as though he consciously defers to the fiddler.  That's not to say that the pianist can't turn it on when he wants to, because he can and does, it's just that the balance differs.  The Presto has a nice degree of energy, but the overall tempo is held back just a bit, allowing the musicians the time to let the music unfold, and occasionally, some passages end up sounding kind of klunky.  The Andante benefits even more from Zukerman's big tone, and Neikrug again fades a bit.  The concluding Presto has ample energy, but the rhythmic pulse of better versions is not as pronounced, though the duo blend together well and Zukerman's playing never sounds less than engaging.  A nice version.

[Todd]

Itzhak Perlman and Vladimir Ashkenazy.  Big tone, lots of vibrato, immaculate control, that's how Perlman starts.  Big tone, immaculate control, that's how Ashkenazy starts.  Then they merge.  Here are two giants of the analog stereo era in their inevitable pairing, and this is one of those times when big name stars fully deliver on their promise.  The duo drive through the opening movement Presto with what could be called abandon if it were not for the absolute control they display in every aspect of their playing.  And they clearly worked out what they wanted to do.  When Perlman must shine, oh boy, does he, with every register pristine.  When Ashkenazy must come to the fore, of course he does with Ashkenazian command.  Yep.  The Andante comes in at a lengthy 16'30", and the duo attend to every detail, every musical nook and cranny, that legendary artists ought to.  Each variation is basically characterized perfectly, with perfect tempo proportions and perfect dynamic contrasts everywhere.  The Presto, well, the Presto sounds just as perfectly realized, with perfect levels of energy, perfect musical teamwork, and even a slightly elongated last note from Perlman.  Perlman and Ashkenazy were both at their peaks when they recorded this work, and it shows.  One of the great recordings.

[André Le Nôtre]

Sorry to change the subject here, but my top request for an exhaustive review thread--by you and others--would be Schubert D960 piano sonata. I obtained a very interesting recording by Ellsworth Snyder, a friend (lover?) of John Cage and have been kind of entranced by it. Snyder was also an abstract painter of some repute. He believed that Schubert would have wanted this sonata played much slower than common practice...

[Holden]

Sorry to change the subject here, but my top request for an exhaustive review thread--by you and others--would be Schubert D960 piano sonata. I obtained a very interesting recording by Ellsworth Snyder, a friend (lover?) of John Cage and have been kind of entranced by it. Snyder was also an abstract painter of some repute. He believed that Schubert would have wanted this sonata played much slower than common practice...

Which is what Richter did.......

[Todd]

Leonidas Kavakos and Enrico Pace.  Kavakos starts the Adagio sostenuto is supremely controlled, almost Bach-sounding style, and Pace starts off with strongly characterized playing offering a striking contrast.  Kavakos only gradually picks up the volume, and as he does Pace recedes a bit to allow the main focus to be the fiddler.  Part of that seems to be the production team's choice, and part is Pace's, and as in every other chamber music recording he has made, he demonstrates that he is one of the best accompanists working today by knowing how to pair with the big star.  Not that he's a wallflower, or that Kavakos dominates proceedings like Heifetz, because the two alternate back and forth quite nicely.  Kavakos demonstrates instrumental command second to none, playing fast or slow, loud or quiet, a single note or double stop, or anything else, as well as anyone.  The dynamic and tempo transitions are seamless and flawless throughout, and the duo generate amply energy in the Presto.  In the Andante, the duo again display supremely fine coordination, so well-drilled that it sort of becomes something of a weakness.  The playing lacks spontaneity and sounds nearly perfect, like a Steven Osborne museum grade recording but refined even more.  They play the concluding Presto at a proper tempo, but somehow it manages to sound slower than it is, and everything sounds almost too meticulous.  Yep, that's kvetching of the highest order.  I will say, that I now regret not taking the opportunity to drive up to Seattle to hear the duo in person this last January.  Who knows if I will ever have the chance to hear them in person again. 

[Todd]

Takako Nishizaki and Jenő Jandó.  Nishizaki starts conventionally in the Adagio sostenuto, but she generates a small sound, which becomes more evident after Jandó joins and they play together.  He often just drowns her out, without seeming to try.  The musical approach is unfussy, straight-forward, and good enough for a library recording if one just wants to have the work.  The Andante sounds like a slower, properly varied style approach, while the Presto has nice enough pep and drive.  If the description sounds lackluster, it's because the playing falls into the completely competent but more than kind of dull category.  Sub-par early Naxos sound doesn't help.  Meh.

[Todd]

Gerhard Taschner and Walter Gieseking.  Turbo-charged Beethoven, that's what one gets here.  Taschner opens the Adagio sostenuto nicely enough, and Gieseking dispatches his part nicely, but the Presto (more a Molto Prestissimo) is what the artists waited for, and in the fast passages they push things to and then past the breaking point.  While things never fall apart, the playing borders on the reckless.  Gieseking is comfortable zipping through anything, and Taschner seems so, too.  There's definitely excitement aplenty.  In slower passages, Taschner also makes sure to use some old school (older than one would have thought given his age at the time) vibrato that sounds excessive.  The interpretive extremes reappear in the Andante.  The overall timing is middle of the road, but the slow variations are slow and Taschner plays with excessive vibrato which sounds excessive because it lacks sweetness and doesn't add aural beauty, and the fast passages are dashed off.  Gieseking does his thing like Gieseking does, and therefore holds more interest.  The closing Presto, stripped of repeat and dashed off in under six minutes, is again more like a Molto Prestissimo and played with speed and recklessness that almost makes it seem like the artists wanted to finish up the session in time for a pressing lunch engagement.  Meh-.

[Todd]

Sayaka Shoji and Gianluca Cascioli.  A study in contrasts with the Taschner/Gieseking recording.  Shoji and Cascioli both open the Adagio sostenuto at slow and controlled tempi, and then they move into a Presto that is very restrained and studied in comparison.  Both artists seem to have studied the score and almost over-prepared.  Any hints of spontaneity seem entirely absent, and instead every single phrase, chord, and note seems planned down to the Nth degree.  While that may seem like a criticism, it is meant as praise.  Every once in a while, one appreciates a recording where everything, down to the exact decibel output of both the violin and piano, are precisely honed.  Musical autopsies can be enjoyable.  The Andante benefits even more from the studied approach the duo bring.  Shoji can and does play with a gently beautiful tone, and Cascioli can and does the same, and they lighten their approach, with playing on the quiet end of the spectrum that simply beguiles.  Shoji, in particular, creates an at times sweet and gently nuanced sound that really hits the spot, especially in the gorgeous and tender fourth variation.  She and Cascioli turn the slow movement into the center of gravity for the work, bringing late period qualities to the music and playing.  Very nice.  The detail-oriented almost to a fault approach pays surprising dividends in the concluding Presto as Shoji floats her violin over Cascioli's (too?) meticulous right hand playing in some passages, with each note from each artist so cleanly articulated yet so subtle that one just sort of marvels at the musical transparency.  Of course, energy and drive and snap go missing when compared to other versions, but this is not those versions.  It's its own thing.  Most enjoyable.

[Todd]

Isabelle Faust and Alexander Melnikov.  And here's yet another widely contrasting recording.  Faust and Melnikov take the repeat in the opener and play with verve approaching Taschner and Gieseking, but with preparation and control more akin to Shoji and Cascioli.  Faust's tone is not the most robust or tonally lustrous, but her playing is super-precise and her dynamic range, as recorded, is superb.  Melnikov, if anything, displays even more control.  They combine to very good effect.  In the Andante, they go for a light, springy, bouncy, rhythmically focused reading, with quicksilver dynamic contrasts and stop-on-a-dime phrasing.  It's higher on ear-catching excitement than nuance, but it's high on nuance, too.  Melnikov pounds out the opening chord of the final movement, and then the duo play a quick 'n' tight Presto closer, with more of that bouncy rhythmic playing that so captures the attention.  Better than my memory suggested.

[JBS]

Isabelle Faust and Alexander Melnikov.  And here's yet another widely contrasting recording.  Faust and Melnikov take the repeat in the opener and play with verve approaching Taschner and Gieseking, but with preparation and control more akin to Shoji and Cascioli.  Faust's tone is not the most robust or tonally lustrous, but her playing is super-precise and her dynamic range, as recorded, is superb.  Melnikov, if anything, displays even more control.  They combine to very good effect.  In the Andante, they go for a light, springy, bouncy, rhythmically focused reading, with quicksilver dynamic contrasts and stop-on-a-dime phrasing.  It's higher on ear-catching excitement than nuance, but it's high on nuance, too.  Melnikov pounds out the opening chord of the final movement, and then the duo play a quick 'n' tight Presto closer, with more of that bouncy rhythmic playing that so captures the attention.  Better than my memory suggested.

That's my favorite recording of the Kreutzer.  I was curious to see what you thought of it.

You did prompt me to get out my Perlman/Ashkenazy set and play the full cycle. I remembered the set as being rather a bore, and was happy to discover it's not nearly as bland as I thought from previous listens.

[Todd]

Now's as good a time as any to get a HIP rendition out of the way.  Jaap Schröder and Jos Van Immerseel paired up for this recording in the 90s, and from the first note one hears period instruments.  The violin lacks projection and precision, but does sound warmer than pretty much every version to this point, even if the intonation annoys.  But not as much as Immerseel's instrument.  To be sure, I've heard much worse sounding period keyboards, but I've also heard much better.  And I've heard better played.  (Think Alexander Lonquich in his new set of the Cello Sonatas.)  The duo get all the notes right and the general spirit of the Presto right, but the instruments sound broken.  And some of Schröder's fast playing does not inspire confidence.  The Andante brings Immerseel's fortepiano more to fore much of the time, and it doesn't hurt anything - and it doesn't help anything.  Both players generate a more comfortable sound, but the instruments grate, especially the violin.  The concluding Presto has enough pep but sounds small and doesn't have the dynamics or clean playing to satisfy.  I doubt I listen to this recording again.

[Todd]

Isabelle van Keulen and Hannes Minnaar.  An unexpected cycle which I bought because it was five bucks.  Keulen is not new to me, but Minnaar is (or was when I bought it), and let me say that they do some snazzy work here.  Keulen does not go for the long, singing line, nor for a gorgeous one, but instead often (elegantly) slices her way through some passages, and seems to shorten note values, or at least taper the notes in such a way as to make it seem so.  It's an elegant take on rambunctious fiddling in the opening movement.  Playing along is Minnaar, who's just superb.  His articulation is outstanding, his voice balancing, too, and while he can and does play with oomph, he never bulldozes his way through the music.  And some little touches - perfectly weighted arpeggios, sforzandi that have attack but not bite, and a just generally supremely fine control and taste - almost make him the star of the show.  The duo keep the Andante tight and springy pretty much throughout, with even the slower variations kind moving along.  The effect is not at all unpleasant, and sort of makes the whole thing peppier.  Minnaar hammers out the opening chord of the Presto and, at least rhythmically, sets the pace in the movement as the duo bop along quite nicely.  Superb.

[Todd]

Josef Suk and Jan Panenka.  Suk starts more or less old school, with more than a little vibrato and a robust open, while Panenka joins him offering a piano equivalent.  They then move through the Presto at a robust but not rushed tempo, and there's a robustness to the overall style and playing.  Not a heaviness, not at all, a robustness.  In the Andante, the duo effectively trade lead roles, whereas in the opener, Suk was the focus.  Here, Suk keeps his vibrato and robust tone and Panenka offers a solid underpinning, though one might wish for a finer touch at times.  Suk does lighten his touch a bit, too, delivering some lithe upper register playing.  In the Presto, the duo again deliver robust playing, if not particularly zippy playing.  Suk sort of becomes the star again, and with lilting double stops like he delivers a couple times, it sort of makes sense.  The overall feel is old school reliable music making.