Customer Reviews

Tchaikovsky: Violin Concerto / Glazunov: Violin Concerto

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I grew up listening to the Op. 35 and even as a child I knew it was something special. At the time, the version I had was the old Heifetz (with the white bust of Tchaikovsky on the cover) and I wore it out. To this day, every time I hear the Op. 35 it captures my heart.

So finding a version that mirrors how I actually hear the piece in my mind became almost a personal mission. In fact, over the years, I believe that I have listened to performances from all the top names. And despite hearing Perlman, Mutter, Midori and all their fiddling friends, no one matched up to the interpretation that I always carried with me.

That was until Maxim Vengerov came along. I was not familiar with this performer at all when I purchased this CD. I quickly learned his name because, at last, here was a performer who heard this violin concerto as I did. It was a revelation for me.

The phrasing is exquisite, the mood perfect, the technical artistry unmatched, and the passion simply exudes from Vengerov's performance. Best of all, there is a certain playfulness to his performance that so many other performers have so completely failed to capture in their own interpretations. Throughout, Vengerov is in command. He was born to play the Op. 35. Backed by the able and willing Berliner Philharmoniker under the baton of Claudio Abbado, soloist and orchestra have an almost psychic rapport.

Sadly, I cannot comment on the quality of the Glazunov concerto included since I have no other reference. I can only assume that it, too, is definitive. The concerto itself is actually quite stirring, making it a good - albeit unique - pairing with the Tchaikovsky.

As for the sound of the recording, I must confess it loses a bit of low end in the Allegro. To my ears Vengerov's Strad seems distant at points due to what must be mic placement. This might explain some of the weakness in the lower frequencies. Still, the orchestra also seems weak in the lower registers, so perhaps there are other reasons. But these are minor quibbles that in no way detract from the CD.

As I look back at the criterion performance of my youth, the Heifetz, I must say as I move into my fifth decade that I have a new criterion: Vengerov. Give this one an accessible spot on the shelf because you'll reach for it again and again.

In this recording, both the violinist and conductor excel to give real life to an overplayed "warhorse" of a concerto. The Tchaikovsky can often come across as a rather empty, unfulfilling work in less capable hands, with a wealth of opportunity for very ugly phrasing in the first movement. However, Vengerov once again produces a marvellous, very Slavic performance; out playing, in my opinion, David Oistrakh. Oistrakh's recording with Ormandy is similar to this one, but Verngerov plays with more youthful vigour, without sacrificing technical mastery. Also, Abbado's accompaniment is thrillingly compelling, with very alert playing from the BPO. Of course, it is a futile exercise in claiming that a certain recording is "definitive", everyone has different tastes. Thus, I, unlike others, am not going to join in the argument about whether this outranks Heifetz's olympic-style dash for the finishing post, but if one wants a performance that makes the best possible case for the Tchaikovsky (and the Glazunov, for that matter), with good digital sound, then look no further.

For years, I'd somehow gotten the impression (from where, I'm not even sure any more) that he was all flash and no substance.

What he *is*, is a genius.

I've listened to his recording of the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto with Claudio Abbado conducting the Berlin Philharmonic twice (again) tonight, and am now quite certain that the man's bow arm is not subject to the force of gravity *or* the laws of physics. It brings home, more than anything I've ever listened to, the difference between an accomplished amateur and one of the best in the world at what he does.

Vengerov's bow arm is preternaturally agile, in ways that cause *my* right arm to hurt just from trying to *think* about them. His control over every muscle, from the big, gross-movement monsters of the shoulder and upper arm to the tiniest muscles in his fingers at the frog of the bow, shows in every note, every beautifully-executed phrase. Especially in the cadenza at the end of the first movement, but really, throughout the disc, he shows time and time again why it is the *right* hand that makes a master violinist, and not the flashier, seemingly more-dextrous left.

All of which might be incidental, if this wasn't the Tchaikovsky. The Beethoven is a more completely perfect concerto for the violin, but *no one* orchestrates like Tchaikovsky. Every important phrase is given over at precisely the perfect moment, to *exactly* the instrument that ought to voice it. And even Claudio Abbado's occasionally plodding direction can't screw up the Berlin Philharmonic when they're playing with a musician of Vengerov's caliber.

If you're a fan of the violin, of Tchaikovsky in general, or of Maxim Vengerov in particular, and *don't* own this CD, you should rush right out and buy it.

Vengerov's performance runs the gamut from playful and humorous to dark and brooding, but his playing on this piece is always brilliant, always appropriate, and nearly flawless, a tour de force of virtuosity, musicianship, and thoughtful interpretation. This disc is the perfect illustration of why major labels and major orchestras continue to occasionally assay a new recording of one of the warhorses of the repertoire.

The Glazunov is a pleasant, well-played, and occasionally moving "B" side (if perhaps a bit light), 'though here Vengerov is not quite as convincing as he is in Shostakovich's Violin
Concerto #1 on his disc with Rostropovich conducting the National Symphony Orchestra.

Vengerov seems to take the considerable technical demands of the Tchaikovsky in stride. One could hardly ask for a more commanding performance. The interplay between soloist and orchestra is very fine too, with the Berlin Philharmonic complimented by excellent recorded sound. Vengerov's performance is not heavily romantic in the style of Perlman, but he wins you over with his sheer technique. One of the little pleasures of this concerto is hearing all the quick passages Tchaikovsky writes for the soloist and on this recording you can actually hear them all quite well. If you like the Glazunov, it is good too.

Vengerov simply blows away the current competition in this stellar performance of the Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto. I doubt I have heard anyone recently master the extraordinary technical demands on this piece with such grace and lyricism. He produces a vibrant, rich tone on his violin, playing with much warmth and empathy for Tchaikovsky's score. Abbado leads the Berlin Philharmonic in yet another excellent performance. Vengerov's playing of the Glazunov concerto is first rate too, but clearly his performance of the Tchaikovsky is absolutely special; it is my choice for a definitive contemporary recording of this concerto. Both performances were superbly recorded by Teldec's engineers.

Maxim Vengerov was 21 when this album was released in 1995, already a superstar and the winner of the Gramophone's Record of the Year in 1994. He was a rare talent but also a fortunate one, in that Russia, in the aftermath of the Soviet collapse, hadn't yet disgorged its wealth of superb violinists. Vengerov rode the early wave, and his fame was founded, quite justly, on youth, a huge tone, God-give technique, and fresh musical instincts. In a brass-plated warhorse like the Tchaikovsky he communicates real enthusiasm and love of the score. There's spontaneity is this reading, which sets it aside from a calculated dazzler like the famous Heifetz account on RCA under Reiner. That reading is as mechanical as it is astonishing on technical grounds. As everyone comments, Vengerov was as varied in tone and phrasing as Oistrakh when he was at his best (mostly on gritty Melodiya recordings from the early Fifties and sporadically afterward).

There's not enough musical depth in the Tchaikovsky concerto to warrant the kind of probing that suits the Beethoven and Brahms concertos, but it evokes the essence of the romantic violinist as poet and tender lover. Vengerov manages to make his tenderness interesting from bar to bar. With supreme control over his instrument, he can give us one nuance after another without dropping the line or impeding forward motion. Even so, this is a reading of details more than sweep, and Abbado is equally attention to making sure that nothing sounds rote or automatic. It would have been nice if he got a touch excited, however. Teldec provides beautiful sound, with the violin miked close but not suffocatingly so. We have plenty of room to admire the splendors of the Berlin Phil. as well. As with all the pedigreed accounts of the Tchaikovsky concerto, Vengerov absorbs the pyrotechnics into the overall flow rather than making them stand out; I admire that, but if the house was burning down, it's still Heifetz's hair-raising recording I'd run in to save.

Because his fortune was assured playing the same half dozen romantic works, it was always interesting when Vengerov ventured into Nielsen, Britten, Stravinsky, and Walton, lending their modernism the cachet of a superstar (although no great fan of Anne-Sophie Mutter, I admire her for the same thing, and her explorations have been even more adventurous, into the realm of Dutilleux and Gubaidulina). Glazunov isn't on my list of works that I'm curious to hear anyone play. At the time, however, there was no rival pairing of it with the Tchaikovsky, as naturally as the two works belong together as the epitome of Russian romantic violin concertos. At barely 21 min., with a first movement lasting just over 4 min. before the slow movement is seamlessly inserted, the Glazunov makes its effect through sweetness, an air of nostalgia, the immediacy of melody -- some of it memorable, most of it not -- and a variety of mood changes, none of them dramatic. We are in the same mauve world as Massenet's operas, where romantic passion shows no danger of escaping middle-class decorum.

Happily, Vengerov loves this music more than I do, and his reading moves lightly and elegantly, aided by Abbado's equally refined accompaniment. It's ravishing how easily the violinist moves into double stops as if they were being played on one string, and his mastery of phrasing is shown off in the gentle, beguiling cadenza that caps the slow movement. The allure of this work is that it could be played by Sherlock Holmes on a rainy day as he languishes in the dreamy haze of a seven percent solution of cocaine. Even the finale, opening with a fanfare and ending with a short gallop in a troika, is careful not to break the charming mood.

The real nostalgia that i feel comes from the brief prime that Vengerov enjoyed. Sidelined by injury in 2008, he seems gone in a flash, and there is no certainty that he will ever reappear in the same dazzling limelight he enjoyed in youth.

Though both Heifetz' rapid progress and Chung Kyung-Hwa's imposing air are a triumph, the young in despair and agonies would have an affinity for this Vengerov's. A chemistry between the violinist and the orchestra has been taken through a magical conversation. Even Tchaikovsky would love it.

It is disappointing that such a technical perfection by Vengerow be coupled with such a scarce conception of the architecture of Ciaicovsky violin Concerto. The soloist seems to performs lines or group of notes as if they where separate things, and suddenly changes rythm, like a stop and go: this damages the whole architecture of this difficult work which is in itself problematic. That is what is felt especially in the third movement, which should suggest a happy popular feast on a crowded St.Petersburg place... Even the beginning of the first movement, where the solo notes enter and create the athmosphere, are nor well utilized by Vengerow, who goes fast running to the higher notes. How far are the times of Elman, Milstein, Prihoda's performances. Vengerow is reputed to be one of the best actual violinists, but technique is not sufficient if it is only an externality of playing, something artificious.. This violinists of today should be more attentive to the historical interpretations of the GREAT MASTERS, if available. Their art would benefit very much.

Tchaikovsky's op.35 is one of my favourite violin concertos, dense of strong feeling. It expresses power, and involves the listener from the beginning to the end. The solo violin drives the concert, without oppressing it. But, what impresses me most is Vengerov's interpretation: to my opinion, the one that best fits this concert.

Actually I am not quite keen on Maxim's interpretation. The tone is too dry. I prefer Gil Shahm, and Joshua Bell's interpretation. Among Maxim's Russian compatriot, I like Vladimir Spivakov's interpretation. I wonder why Spivakov did not record as much.