The press material accompanying this release states, “Why should we produce the umpteenth recording of the Beethoven?” Indeed. And yet, I remember asking a similar question myself more than a decade ago when the Essay label issued its very first CD–none other than the umpteenth umpteenth version of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons! As happened then, this time I did what the disc’s producers urged: I listened, and was very pleasantly surprised. That Vivaldi became nothing less than a standout in a ridiculously crowded field, and this Beethoven concerto performance makes a very impressive showing of its own–not on the suavely styled, meticulously detailed level of Heifetz with Munch and Boston, but genuinely first-class just the same, with abundant moments of lyricism braced with brilliant dances of effortless fingerwork and dynamic phrasing that both propels the line and compels our attention.
Violinist Mela Tenenbaum doesn’t perceive this concerto in the “monumental” terms with which most performers approach and present it. Among her arguments is the fact that “the soloist plays either scales or arpeggios for most of the work while the orchestra carries the lion’s share of the thematic development.” And while this is true, her playing is as individual in its voice–one that’s alternately tender, playful, determined, and assertive–as necessary to make the dialogue convincing and to preserve the context for dynamic interaction and contrast with the orchestra. Beginning with her violin’s emergence from the orchestral texture in the opening movement, she makes the solo line an always engaging presence, her tone lovely, singing, and dead-accurate in pitch. Where Heifetz tosses off the swirling scale and arpeggio passages like confetti in a breeze, Tenenbaum tends to work them a little more carefully, calling more attention to the line rather than strictly to what she can make her instrument do with it. A perfect example of this is the chromatic passage followed by a sequence of trills about a third of the way into the first movement. Heifetz just rolls through this section with amazing facility and brilliantly etched bow articulation; Tenenbaum allows the interior drama of the line to grow, building anticipation to the climax that follows. Certainly there’s a place for both approaches–both successfully make their effect–which is why these two recordings make such good companions.
Tenenbaum positively shines in the slow movement–her rich-toned Strad reveals its warm personality even more fully here–and works into the Rondo finale from a fascinating and fanciful cadenza (her own, as are those in the first and last movements). And this is truly a rondo in which we can delight in the oft-repeated theme no matter how often it asserts itself. Here, too, the soloist takes a little more time–nearly two minutes more than the dazzling speedster Heifetz–and for my taste, these tempos–for which conductor Richard Kapp must receive major credit–actually feel more comfortable than Munch’s near-hurried pace (especially in the finale). And we mustn’t forget the Czech ensemble that offers such solid and exquisitely played accompaniment–most notably the tasty winds and vibrant strings–that so ably reflects Kapp’s direction, which has the unfussy spontaneity and energy of a live performance.
No question, Tenenbaum is a commanding interpreter of this monumental work (yes, it really is), and her clean, clearly detailed articulation combined with an expressive manner that always seems to hold something in reserve adds up to an ideal mix of the classical and romantic. The filler is quite curious: the Marius Casadesus “pastiche” once foisted on the public as a concerto by Mozart. Regardless of its illegitimacy, Tenenbaum and her partners play it so beautifully that we don’t really care who wrote it. Overall the sound is quite full, with wide dynamic range and good balance between soloist and orchestra. However, the orchestral tuttis lose some detail in the inner parts and on the lower end of the spectrum–not a huge deal here, considering the primary focus on the soloist and to a lesser degree the winds, but one that hopefully can be corrected in future recordings with these first-rate musicians. No, we probably don’t absolutely need another Beethoven concerto recording; but if you don’t already own a favorite version, this could happily be your only one.
