Talich conducts Tchaikovsky = TCHAIKOVSKY: Piano Concerto No. 1 in B-flat Minor, Op. 23; Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 35 – Winfried Wolf, piano/Wolfgang Schneiderhahn, violin/Czech Philharmonic/Vaclav Talich
Pristine Audio PASC 138, 65:52 [CD-R] [www.pristineclassical.com] *****:
Among the rarest of the surviving documents from distinguished Czech conductor Vaclav Talich (1883-1961), these restorations owe their resurgence to producer and audio engineer Mark Obert-Thorn. The Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto, in particular, recorded 1 April 1940 at the National Theater, Prague for Electrola, makes its first appearance in any form since its shellac origins.
The performance opens rather with a direct, militant statement of the introduction, whose materials do not reappear in the main tissue of the Allegro non troppo first movement. Wolf takes a studied approach to the broken pattern of the keyboard part, gaining fluency and lithe energy as he proceeds. Every phrase is twice repeated, the Schumann influence obvious. Wolf shows off a fluent, polished legato as well as titanic octave runs, Talich’s string pizzicati and clarinet commentary in tight. The dolce figures Talich caresses rather broadly, allowing Wolf to interact with often sweeping arpeggios and sterling runs to the end of the first major period. Talich hurries the development section along, as balletic as it is lyrically dramatic, given the four-square rhythm. A real power surge to the first “cadenza,” Wolf’s broken figures and repeated riffs pearly and articulate to the string responsories. Wolf then applies the “maestoso” indication at full throttle, his descending scales in dialogue with Wagner’s Fafner. Swift, studied chords take us the second, “real” cadenza, a virtual music-box in delicately nuanced, mercurially brisk colors. Repeated notes take us to the orchestra’s reentry and a coda of fleet, insistent power, though not of the same girth Richter achieves with Karajan.
Tender but strong pizzicati open the Andantino semplice, the flute leading us to a dreamy keyboard part over hushed strings. Wolf’s non-legato over the lower strings ascends to a luscious trill and a restatement with a nasal oboe. The middle section moves from a brief cadenza passage into some spirited interplay that has Wolf in crisp runs and trills against the strings. A bit of a Chopin scherzo takes us to a suspended cadence that droops liquidly to the trilled run of the da capo, which benefits from a distinctive lilt that Talich applies to his oboe and divided strings. The final Allegro con fuoco begins with a touch of marcato, but we can clearly enjoy each staccato and pizzicato, and Wolf’s attacks carry a good bite. The strings prove a bit nasal for the main, legato theme, but the breezy interplay compensates for some thin, reedy tone. Some of the keyboard filigree does indeed echo Schumann, except the woodwind work becomes a bit wild. A driven tempo, clear orchestral metrics, and an even pulsation keep the tension strong to the graduated crescendo through which we anticipate those rocket octaves to the pregnant pause that unleashes the extended, singing coda. What a pleasure to have this “legendary” document with us after almost 70 years.
The Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto (July 1941, from the National Theater, Prague for German Columbia) with Wolfgang Schneiderhahn has had at least two CD incarnations, one of which appeared on Urania. It has become apocryphal that Talich inscribed a Tchaikovsky F Minor Symphony at these same sessions, but no masters seem to have survived World War II. The Violin Concerto, given its drive and soberness of direction, easily reminds us that Schneiderhahn maintained a ferociously accurate technique, combined with an innate will to a predetermined end, that rivals Milstein. The orchestral tissue resonates with verve and Russian ardor, benefiting, perforce, of Talich’s absolute insistence on clarity of the interior lines in winds and horns. Wonderful winds crunching and groaning under the violin solo as it makes its way to the second ritornello of the big Russian march theme, a fury of notes to the cadenza. Schneiderhahn makes the cadenza a not-so-distant cousin of both Bach and Bartok at once. The last six minutes combine sweetness, light, and unyielding, forward motion, a spectacular flute tone at Schneiderhahn’s disposal.
A studied, Russian song with a lilting trill opens the Canzonetta: Andante, a lyrical, aristocratically paced movement with suave flute and string accompaniments. Schneiderhahn moves the lines quite fast, unsentimentally so, but with a tender, articulated succession of short, pointed phrases. Once again, the ballet elements make us wish Talich might have left us a series of Swan Lake excerpts or collaborated with this fine soloist in the Theme and Variations from Tchaikovsky’s Op. 55. No dawdling for the Finale: Allegro vivacissimo, in which Schneiderhahn bristles like an infuriated cat. He takes a number of Tchaikovsky’s indicated repeats, many of which other soloists find intrusive to the progression of the dance. The march theme over the bassoon Schneiderhahn takes marcato, then he loosens up and drives the line forward, forcing the horns to some fancy footwork. The Rondo picks up once more, the momentum now quite startling, blistering, even in the nasal, high registers. The Russian dance more than once touches places near Stravinsky, basking in the Slavic swagger of it all. For the last two minutes, hold tight for some volatile ferocity from all sides. Notice the five stars–go get this one!
–Gary Lemco