Nikolaj Znaider reminds me a bit of Viktoria Mullova, in that his abundant technique always is placed in the service of a sober, musicianly approach to the work at hand. He treats the Mendelssohn concerto with great seriousness and an unusual degree of intensity, minimizing its elfin sparkle and, in the outer movements at least, emphasizing the long, lyrical line. This works very well, particularly in the finale, which sounds more substantial than usual without sacrificing any of the necessary rhythmic energy. Mehta and the IPO’s vigorous accompaniments, with some solid contributions from the woodwinds, add to the very favorable overall impression. Altogether, this interpretation has personality and a welcome degree of thoughtfulness.
The Beethoven is a tougher nut, and here Znaider isn’t quite so successful, although not in the way you might at first think. His innate sobriety suits the violin vs. orchestra dialectic of the opening movement quite well, and at 22 minutes his pacing is just about ideal. He obviously respects the music, but never seems overwhelmed by it, and his ample tone makes the most of the concerto’s special, singing qualities. The slow movement also is quite beautiful and impressively sustained, but the finale, frankly, turns dull. It’s simply too slow, and too careful: the music asks the players to let their hair down a bit, and here it just doesn’t happen, not with Znaider, and not with Mehta.
I have tremendous respect for Znaider’s taking on this challenge. After all, the reference recording for this coupling, also on RCA and still sounding fantastic, is Heifetz/Munch. Young artists have to play this music, and when making recordings the audible competition is particularly daunting. On the whole, Znaider offers both a point of view and has the technical polish to carry it off. The engineers place him marginally forward in the mix, perhaps due to the circumstances of live recording, but never in such a way that important orchestral detail gets obscured. And he’s not one of those irritating “gasp and groan” soloists whose vocal contributions constitute an independent counterpoint to the music itself. Coming from a young artist, this is a very honorable, if not quite perfect, achievement.
