Thibaud plays MOZART = Violin Concerto No. 3 in G Major, K. 216; Violin Concerto No. 5 in A Major, K. 219 “Turkish”; Violin Concerto No. 6 in E-flat Major, K. 268 – Jacques Thibaud, violin/Paris Conservatory Orchestra/ Charles Munch (K. 219) /Lamoureux Orchestra/ Paul Paray (K. 216)/Symphony Orchestra/Malcolm Sargent (K. 268)
Opus Kura OPK 2089, 75:42 [Distr. by Albany] ****:
Jacques Thibaud (1880-1953), whose career came to a tragic end too soon in a plane crash, enjoyed a fine reputation for his warm and expressive playing, and his great sympathy for the Classical repertoire, especially Mozart, whose music he performed in solo concertos and in chamber ensembles. Opus Kura resurrects his various Mozart concertos, inscribed 1927-1947, in which the real curio is the so-called Concerto No. 6 – attributed to one Friedrich Johann Egk (1767-1838), a virtuoso violinist and composer who had little direct link to Mozart.
The 23 February 1927 inscription of the “Mozart” Egk Concerto with Sargent and a pick-up ensemble suffers a thin aural patina, but Thibaud’s affecting contribution manages to shape a composition cut much in the Viotti mode. The woodwinds can barely be made out distinctly, but the long solo runs over a firm pedal establish a rhetorical formula that would culminate in Paganini. Thibaud’s elastic upward scales embody the soul of the Franco-Belgian school, the music driven yet poised and relaxed, basking in Thibaud’s richly incisive tone. The second movement–Un poco adagio–plays as an extended concert aria or operatic scena, the ornaments and repeated phrases much in the Viotti manner of that composer’s A Minor Concerto. The last movement —Rondo: Allegretto–proves a busy affair in constant motion, though its brilliance remains admittedly superficial.
The January 1941 Turkish Concerto from Paris enjoys better orchestral definition than the reedy K. 268 inscription. Munch moves the opening movement along, already preparing us for the janissary figures later on. Thibaud utilizes the Joachim cadenzas. Occasionally there are slipshod changes of register and the false note, but the architecture of the first movement emerges as a suave exercise in fleet Mozart style. A naturally exalted arioso permeates the Adagio, despite the sometimes metronomic approach to the lines. The Rondo: Minuet enjoys a leisurely grace, mobile and aristocratic in all parts, a happy realization of Mozart’s intimations of the Seraglio.
The G Major Concerto from November 1947, again from Paris, features the talented Paul Paray at the helm, and the result is a lovely affair for woodwinds–the oboes–and solo violin. Thibaud’s confident manner of execution suffuses the entire concerto, and his cadenzas by Ysaye add a continental flavor to the whole. Seamless and brilliant, the first movement bubbles with enthusiasm and youthful vigor. An exaltation of spirit arises out of the Adagio, an intimate version of an instrumental Gluck aria over a warbling bass. The flutes reign in the final movement, a Rondo: Allegro, which achieves a stately elegance in the gavotte-like trio with plucked accompaniment. Thibaud proves a fiery interpreter of this movement, an epithet not so apparent in the other works, but here apt for the inspired quality of his charmed efforts.
–Gary Lemco
