Glazunov Violin

Before the great conductor Ferenc Fricsay died (tragically young at the age of 48 in 1963), he made dozens of brilliant mono and stereo recordings for Deutsche Grammophon. Many of his most significant recordings have been released on CD, though some have already drifted out-of-print (Bartok's Concerto for Orchestra, Mozart Syms 29, 39-41 and Beethoven Syms 3, 5 & 7) and others are only available as expensive imports. This past year there has even been a limited edition boxed set of his music released (in the "Original Masters" series – see my review).

This has the look of a career-making recording from Scots violinist Nicola Benedetti, putting her up against difficult repertory that diverges from the crowd-pleasing fare that formed the basis of her career up to this album. It would have been hard to predict just how well she pulls off her task here; few could have heard the profound interpreter of Russian music in the Italia and Silver Violin collections from earlier in the 2010s. The Shostakovich Violin Concerto No. 1, Op. 99, is an emotionally thorny work in five movements anchored by a tense passacaglia in the middle. The composer withheld it from publication during the period of renewed Stalinist repression in the late 1940s. It was premiered in 1955 by David Oistrakh, and in endurance and elevated tone even if not quite in lyrical grandeur, Benedetti brings that master to mind. Sample the Stravinskian "Burlesque" finale for a sense of how Benedetti gets outside herself here. The Glazunov Violin Concerto, Op. 82, is a more stable work, rooted in pre-WWI conservatory traditions, and Benedetti's reading is nothing short of letter-perfect.

Surprisingly this seems to be the only disc coupling what might reasonably be counted the two greatest romantic Russian violin concertos: if Vengerov's reading of the Tchaikovsky emerges clearly as a leading contender among many superb versions, in the Glazunov he gives a warhorse concerto extra dimensions, turning it from a display piece into a work of far wider-ranging emotions. This Tchaikovsky immediately establishes itself as a big performance, not through close placing of the soloist — the balance is forward though not excessively so — but both in the manner and in the range of dynamic of the playing.

Of the rarities presented in this unusual Russian music collection, the most tantalizing is Gliére’s Concerto for Coloratura Soprano and Orchestra. Judging by the slight surface noise, it sounds as if this transfer could have been made from an LP. No matter, the sound is fine, and Joan Sutherland sings radiantly, pouring out beguiling tone throughout her range, while her trademark trills are put to good use by Gliére’s vocal writing, which isn’t particularly original, especially considering it was composed in 1943. The same can be said for Gliére’s 1938 Harp Concerto: beguiling solo writing set against standard-fare 19th-century orchestral accompaniment.

Glazunov, a pupil of Rimsky-Korsakov, received encouragement also from Belyayev, an influential patron and publisher whose activities succeeded and largely replaced the earlier efforts of Balakirev to inspire the creation of national Russian music. Glazunov joined the teaching staff of the St Petersburg Conservatory in 1899 and after the student protests and turmoil of 1905 was elected director, a position he retained until 1930 (although from 1928 he remained abroad, chiefly in Paris, where he died in 1936).

Glazunov, a pupil of Rimsky-Korsakov, received encouragement also from Belyayev, an influential patron and publisher whose activities succeeded and largely replaced the earlier efforts of Balakirev to inspire the creation of national Russian music. Glazunov joined the teaching staff of the St Petersburg Conservatory in 1899 and after the student protests and turmoil of 1905 was elected director, a position he retained until 1930 (although from 1928 he remained abroad, chiefly in Paris, where he died in 1936).

These two splendid violin concertos breathe the air of Late Romanticism. Well orchestrated and skilfully written for the soloist, they have retained their footholds in the repertoire, even though their respective composers have gone out of fashion. Camille Saint-Saëns’ Third Violin Concerto in B minor had the absolute certainty and conviction of a masterpiece. Saint-Saëns wrote it early in 1880 for the popular Spanish virtuoso Pablo de Sarasate.