BEETHOVEN: Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 61; MOZART: Violin Concerto No. 5 in A Major, K. 219 “Turkish” – Josef Wolfsthal, violin/Berlin Philharmonic/Manfred Gurlitt/Berlin State Opera Orchestra/Frieder Weissmann (Mozart)
Pristine Audio PASC 239, 67:21 [avail. in various formats at www.pristine classical.com] ****:
Josef Wolfsthal (1899-1931), like Dinu Lipatti, Dino Ciani, William Kapell, and Ginette Neveu, seemed bound for musical greatness until tragedy struck at an early age; in Wolfsthal’s case, the influenza epidemic of 1931. Although many of Wolfsthal’s 1920s shellacs comprised encore and showpieces, I do recall that in 1930 Wolfsthal played the solo violin for a recording of the Richard Strauss Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme Suite. Producer Mark Obert-Thorn has assembled the orchestral appearances by Wolfsthal cut for Parlophon and Grammophon, the former an inherently noisy source, given the state of Parlophon’s generic recording technology–for the last three minutes of the Tempo di menuetto–in capturing the Mozart concerto.
For the Mozart “Turkish” Concerto (15, 19 September 1928 and 9 September 1929), Wolfsthal collaborates with veteran opera conductor Frieder Weismann (1893-1984), who after 1926 gained increasing repute as an orchestral leader. Like most of the Carl Flesch pupils, Wolfsthal favors a sweet, linear drive and fast vibrato, his sound ringing and the intonation quite piercing. His upward scales and trilled cadences enjoy both fluency and striking power. Whatever of romantic portamento and “weeping” slides Wolfsthal favored earlier in his recording career, his maturer playing indicates a more “clean” approach, what most critics would call a “modern” style. The resonant Joachim cadenzas for both the Mozart and the Beethoven concertos might be construed as concessions to the tradition Wolfsthal innately favored. The strength of Wolfsthal’s art shines in the splendid Adagio movement–which despite an orchestral cut of some length to fit eight shellac sides–boasts a potent sympathy between the principals and a strong sense of the Mozart style. An elegant courtly dance precedes the janissary flights in the last movement, an aristocrat leisure’s infiltrating every bar. The Turkish elements themselves, crisp and operatically formidable in buffa accents, testify to a poised musical talent. We can hear the direct influence of Wolfsthal on his most devoted Mozart apostle, Szymon Goldberg, from the latter’s own Mozart performances.
The Beethoven Violin Concerto from 1929 Berlin features composer-conductor Manfred Gurlitt (1890-1973) at the helm, a musician whose own story meanders politically and personally. Having tried both to benefit from and to escape from association with National Socialism, Gurlitt thought to improve his credentials in Japan, where he influenced the operatic and symphonic scene more or less successfully. His attention to details of the Beethoven Concerto, especially in the bass and woodwind parts, nicely juxtaposes the work’s essential martial pulsation against timeless lyricism of the violin part, through which Wolfsthal moves like a hot knife through the proverbial butter. The musical periods move with a finely honed and compelling sense of architecture, the pedal points always preparatory of harmonic as well as melodic progression. Wonderful intimacy exists between Wolfsthal and the BPO French horn. The G Major theme-and-variations possesses its own lilted aura, and even the gentle thuds of the bass pizzicati have their dramatic weight. The taut line, its quiet transition to the Rondo: Allegretto by way of a short violin phrase, urges the music ineluctably to its appointed ritornelli, rife with buoyant energy. Wolfsthal’s final cadenza bespeaks a savage temper that only promises still “fairer hopes.” A pity we have no equivalent reading by the BPO under Furtwaengler from this same period, since Gurlitt’s response proves so strong, the phraseology both muscularly pliant and lyrical. Feral, brisk entries by Wolfsthal, aided and abetted by his innate rhythmic thrust, make this historical document as musical as it is “electric.”
–Gary Lemco
