Gregor Piatagorsky = SCHUMANN: Cello Concerto in A Minor; SAINT-SAENS: Cello Concerto No. 1 in A Minor; BLOCH: Schelomo – London Philharmonic/John Barbirolli (Schumann); RCA Victor Symphony Orchestra/Fritz Reiner (Saint-Saens) – Testament

Testament SBT 1371  65:37 (Distrib. Harmonia Mundi) ****:

This Testament CD does tribute to one of the giants–literally and
figuratively–in music, Ukranian-born cellist Gregor Piatagorsky
(1903-1976), whose career bridged the old romantic tradition embodied
by Casals and embraced the new, revisionist tradition initiated by
Feuermann. The one prewar performance, of the Schumann Concerto from 18
May 1934, features Piatagorsky’s own cadenza and his “favorite”
conductor John Barbirolli, at the time EMI’s house-conductor for
collaborations. Despite the sheer girth of Piatagorsky’s physique, he
had the entire emotional range of the cello at his disposal, and he
could evince great power or a kitten’s purr from his Montagnana
instrument. Collectors will relish the audible “Bravo!” enunciated for
posterity at the Schumann’s conclusion, apocryphally a burst of
appreciation from oboe player Leon Goossens.

The June 1951 Saint-Saens A Minor Concerto with Fritz Reiner forms part
of a series of recordings the fierce Hungarian conductor led with the
RCA pickup ensemble of MET and New York Philharmonic musicians.
Piatagorsky had already inscribed the Saint-Saens in an equally blazing
rendition for CBS with Frederick Stock and the Chicago Symphony. A
whiplash performance, the Piatagorsky-Reiner rendition has the soloist
applying all sorts of saltando effects and high tessitura to achieve a
frothy veneer of wit and vocal lyricism, as well as coloratura
virtuosity. The Schlelomo reunites two old members of the Berlin
Philharmonic who had played under Furtwaengler–Piatagorsky and Charles
Munch–for an alternately declamatory and pious rendering of Bloch’s
prophetic voice in the desert. The January 1957 inscription, engineered
by Richard Mohr, still packs a colossal sonic punch; and the Boston
Symphony winds, strings, and brass surround Piatagorsky with an often
eerie illumination.

–Gary Lemco