Kyung Wha Chung's career was launched with a series of LPs made for Decca in the early 1970s, revealing an artist of exceptional technique, insight and spontaneity. One of these contained this rich-sounding performance of the Bruch G minor Violin Concerto, recorded with Rudolf Kempe and the Royal Philharmonic in 1972. It is still one of the freshest and most vital readings of this piece around, as Chung seems to know exactly where to draw the line between precision and abandon, the playing always seeming felt rather than planned, perhaps the highest achievement for a virtuoso. The 1981 recording of the Mendelssohn is a sheer delight, with fast tempos giving the work an extra sparkle, something the soloist obviously relishes.
Kyung Wha Chung's career was launched with a series of LPs made for Decca in the early 1970s, revealing an artist of exceptional technique, insight and spontaneity. One of these contained this rich-sounding performance of the Bruch G minor Violin Concerto, recorded with Rudolf Kempe and the Royal Philharmonic in 1972. It is still one of the freshest and most vital readings of this piece around, as Chung seems to know exactly where to draw the line between precision and abandon, the playing always seeming felt rather than planned, perhaps the highest achievement for a virtuoso. The 1981 recording of the Mendelssohn is a sheer delight, with fast tempos giving the work an extra sparkle, something the soloist obviously relishes.
Kyung Wha Chung's career was launched with a series of LPs made for Decca in the early 1970s, revealing an artist of exceptional technique, insight and spontaneity. One of these contained this rich-sounding performance of the Bruch G minor Violin Concerto, recorded with Rudolf Kempe and the Royal Philharmonic in 1972. It is still one of the freshest and most vital readings of this piece around, as Chung seems to know exactly where to draw the line between precision and abandon, the playing always seeming felt rather than planned, perhaps the highest achievement for a virtuoso. The 1981 recording of the Mendelssohn is a sheer delight, with fast tempos giving the work an extra sparkle, something the soloist obviously relishes.
Kennedy has shrewdly augmented the regular concerto coupling of Bruch and Mendelssohn with the rare Schubert work, and the result is a generous issue which on every front can be warmly recommended for exceptionally strong and positive performances, vividly recorded. The Rondo in A, D438, dating from 1816, the year of his Concertstuck in D for violin and orchestra, was originally written for solo violin accompanied by string quartet.
In his second EMI Classics recordings of Bruch’s two best-loved works, Perlman is joined by the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra and Zubin Mehta. He dedicated this recording to his great predecessor Jascha Heifetz, saying that “his artistry will always be my inspiration”.
Award-winning violinist Jack Liebeck brings his impassioned tones, fulsome emotional display and formidable technique to the first of three albums of music by Max Bruch.
On his second album for Alpha Classics, rising star violinist Kerson Leong juxtaposes the Violin Concertos of Bruch and Benjamin Britten. This unusual pairing is a reflection on the journey from one extreme of expression to another. Bruch’s In Memoriam is the perfect bridge between them.
Richard Hickox continues his excellent Bruch cycle with warm-hearted and forceful readings of the First Symphony and the Third Violin Concerto. Compared with Masur's slightly ramshackle Leipzig performance, Hickox and the LSO provide an extremely fresh sounding performance of the First Symphony. Many opening horn calls and some delightful woodwind solos add to the charm of a work, which should have a firmer hold on the orchestral repertoire. As regards tempi, Hickox is akin to James Conlon and his expansive Cologne performance (EMI) but Chandos' bloom depicts some wonderful playing from the LSO especially in the irresistible Allegro guerriero.
Mordkovitch and Wallfisch play with a good deal of spirit and poetry in the Double Concerto and the recording captures their attractive quality of tone very effectively, since they are placed at a reasonable distance from their microphones. The LSO is set a little too far back in the sound picture, and in a slightly cavernous acoustic which may exaggerate the impression of a slightly lacklustre routine orchestral contribution under Järvi.