What an interesting disc! First observation: the sound in the Violin Concerto, which dates from 1949, is astounding–rich, full, with a big dynamic range and ideal balances between orchestra and soloist. I’ve heard modern stereo recordings that come across far worse, so no apologies are necessary there. The performance is marvelous. Despite a less than wonderful orchestra, Hans Rosbaud’s opening tutti sets the tone for a performance of high contrasts: listen to how he slowly builds up the tension until the accumulated energy spills over into the cadence theme, perfectly anticipating violinist Ginette Neveu’s own nervy contribution. She attacks her solo part with the enthusiasm of youth. There’s sensitivity aplenty, to be sure, but the primary impression here is one of great energy waiting to erupt–and erupt it does, particularly in the central development section and in Neveu’s ferocious attack on the first-movement cadenza. The slow movement, though, is all sweetness, her sometimes aggressive tone effortlessly tamed, which makes the return to her bold manner in the finale all the more effective. More than just a fine solo performance, what we have here is a genuine collaboration between violinist and conductor, and thanks to the excellent sonics we can enjoy it with no reservations whatsoever.
Rosbaud’s account of the Eighth Symphony, dating from 1961 and excellently recorded for its day, will come as a shock to some. It’s slower even than Klemperer’s, particularly in the outer movements, which come off as hugely implacable even though Rosbaud permits himself numerous liberties in terms of expressive shaping of phrases. Like Klemperer, the very forward wind balances help sustain momentum and to some extent justify the slow pacing by revealing lots of enjoyable detail. And there’s plenty of excitement: Rosbaud builds the long passage leading to the first movement recapitulation with an architect’s master hand, the tension becoming almost unbearable before the dam bursts into the home key. The same purposeful vigor characterizes the finale, while the middle movements pretty much work no matter what you do to them, and here Rosbaud’s tempos more clearly approach the German standard of the time (if such a thing ever existed). Also, the orchestra clearly has improved since 1949, and it plays with passion. A surprising performance, then, but certainly a welcome bonus to a singularly red-blooded account of the Violin Concerto. This disc is a “must” for collectors of historical recordings.
