Violin Concertos

Hybrid/SACD DSD remastered Playable on all compactdisc players

"I love this performance of the Beethoven Violin Concerto, and now it sounds better than ever. This has been my reference version for a long time (since buying the LP in the 70's!). It is romantic, regal, lilting, imperious, and tender by turns. Grumiaux's playing borders on witchcraft at times, with a sweet, rich tone and full range of emotion. The Kreisler cadenza is a beautiful bit of music in his skilled hands, and it suits this concerto very well. Colin Davis and the Concertgebouw fill the hall with perfectly phrased and timed support, and the engineers have captured it all from an ideal perspective, providing fullness and detail together. This kind of reproduction of music can lift the human spirit, and instill in us some of Beethoven's idealism and love of life...I cannot criticize the performance of the Bruch because I am not as familair with that piece. The sound is fine."
(SA-CD.Net)

In his day, the German composer Max Bruch (1838- 1920) was highly popular. After receiving his first lessons from his mother, he already produced an extensive collection of compositions at the tender age of twelve. He studied with Ferdinand Hiller and Karl Reinecke at an early age, became Musikdirektor in Koblenz (where he also composed his Violin Concerto No. 1), and worked independently in Berlin and Bonn from 1870 - 1878. During this period, he mainly wrote oratorios. From a musical point of view, Bruch was a true descendent of Mendelssohn: he firmly rejected the aesthetics of both Wagner and the New German School, and created his own type of "academic conservatism". His great interest in and intensive composition of folk-song and folk-melodies ran like a red line throughout his oeuvre.

Were it not for his Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor, Op. 26 recorded here, the composer Bruch would probably have been forgotten by now. The work was both a blessing and a curse for a composer who, in his day, experienced not only the development of the Romantic era in music, but also the revolutionary changes brought about by the New Viennese School at the beginning of the 20th century. He fought against this, describing it as the "chaos of the new era" (Rzehulka). A blessing, as it brought him great success; a curse, as he attempted desperately to repeat this success during the remainder of his life.
The contribution made by the famous violinist Joseph Joachim to the G-minor Concerto was more than just that of playing the solo part at the première performance in Bremen in 1868 - and this was also the case a decade later with Brahms' Violin Concerto. An intensive exchange of opinions documented by letters between the violinist and the composer were at the basis of the composition. A fact, however, which Bruch could no longer remember (or had not desire to remember) towards the end of his life: "The public must almost think - when reading all this - that the concerto was written by Joachim, not by me. The truth is that I made grateful use of some of his tips, yet discarded others."

The work was repeatedly rewritten, improved and altered, and the work process was long drawn out, as Bruch lacked self-confidence. However, in the work itself nothing can be heard of all these difficulties - it is what is generally described in artists' circles as a "stroke of genius". The spotlight is totally focussed on the violin as a cantabile instrument, while the orchestra is consigned exclusively to a supportive role. Whereas the musical partners hold a free, rhapsodic dialogue in the first movement, the violin soars up to the heavens in the Adagio, full of pathos and emotion, until the finale - which has a distinctly Hungarian character - provides a virtuoso conclusion to the work.

It was again Joseph Joachim who successfully reintroduced Beethoven's Violin Concerto in D, Op. 61 to the concert hall 40 years after its première in Vienna on December 23, 1806. In retrospect, it is almost impossible to understand why the work did not receive the immediate unanimous approval of audiences and critics alike. Thus the following was written in the Wiener Theaterzeitung (Vienna Theatre newspaper): "…the coherence within the work often seemed to be completely missing, and the infinite repetitions of a number of rough passages could easily become tiresome". A glance at the score would help to provide a better understanding of this contemporary review. In the first two movements especially, Beethoven refuses to comply with the demands of the Classical virtuoso concerto: instead, he directs the spotlight on to the symphonic side and the intensity of expression within the music. The extensively developed first movement contains 535 bars and displays a "tiny cosmos of interrelated and interconnected themes and motifs " (Müller-Jensen). The throbbing motif which introduces the movement with five beats of the kettledrum forms the rhythmic framework, which is soon joined by a cantabile motif in the woodwinds. The Allegro follows the Classical concerto principles as far as form is concerned, in which the sonata form and the ritornello structure are combined. The soloist is the "primus inter pares" (= first among equals), he is allowed to emerge into the spotlight, although he is not given any opportunity to show off his virtuoso skills. Throughout the Larghetto middle movement, the structure of the form - as is the case in both Violin Romances - clearly takes second place to the expression. This monothematic "lyrical scene" with various strophes is continually interrupted by recitative-like interjections, and in the middle of the movement the soloist is offered a lyrical resting place. The conclusion of the work, which so far has been rather contemplative and restrained, is formed by a Rondo-Finale - full of high spirits and virtuoso playing - and once again has an expressly symphonic structure.