Copyright 1998 by Record Guide Productions. All rights reserved.
BRAHMS: Violin Concerto With Double Concerto Gidon Kremer, Clemens Hagen, Concertgebouw/ Harnoncourt--Teldec 13137--69 minutes.
There are seven zillion recordings of the violin concerto. It looks as if everyone who has ever played the instrument has recorded it at least once. Anyone who tells you that he knows THE best recording is either naive or thinks that you are. If all you want is a fine performance of the violin and double concertos with first-rate string playing, a solid orchestral collaboration, and really good recorded sound, stop here. Go to your local record store and buy (or, more likely, order) the Philips disc with Szeryng, Starker and Haitink. It ought to cost under ten dollars, and it will give a lifetime of pleasure, with enough musical substance to keep your heirs listening happily after you've gone on to discuss the concerto's fine points with Brahms and Joachim.
Still here? Then you must want something more. Well, the good news is that you've come to the right place. Both of these new concert recordings offer a lot more than a basic Brahms concerto. The bad news is that I'm not going to be able to decide for you between them. You'll have to figure it out for yourself. Mutter sizzles in her opening solo and is full of fire and temperament. Kremer starts off in a much more understated way. Her playing is rainbow-hued, almost tropically lush. His basic sound is a like pale fire, blazing out or refining itself to an unbelievable purity. Peter Høeg's Smilla, the tough-as-nails heroine of Smilla' s Sense of Snow cried "because in the universe there is something as beautiful as Kremer playing the Brahms violin concerto". Listen to this recording for a little while and you'll know what she was talking about.
Where Mutter will use a caressing, almost teasing, rubato (I 15:16), Kremer will suddenly create a hush and stillness that seem to come from deep in the music and that can take your breath away (I 14:22). Listen to how tenderly Mutter plays the yearning, Schumannesque music at I 10:27 and its recap at 16:22. You can't imagine it more movingly played. Then listen to Kremer 9:53 and 15:18. It's just as moving, but different.
The slow movements bring the same kind of differences, with Mutter seeming more overtly expressive but Kremer matching her. The finales are both outstanding, with the often-dour Harnoncourt more vivacious than the usually witty Masur.
We tried to make a distinction in an overview a while back between lyrical and dramatic performances of violin concertos, and I thought that this might help here, but it doesn't. Although Mutter is unquestionably "hot" in this performance, Kremer isn't particularly cool, just focussed a little differently. Perhaps the best way to put it is that Mutter is playing from the heart, guided by her head, and that Kremer is playing from the head, guided by his heart. Both have arrived at splendidly balanced performances. One way to distinguish between them is by their discmates. Mutter's is a Fantasy by Schumann, transcribed for violin and orchestra by Kreisler, who probably also touched up the solo part a little. It's a pleasant and seldom-heard piece with some of that dark glow that Schumann alone could write into music. For all that, it is a minor work. Kremer has a very powerful performance of the Double Concerto with Clemens Hagen as a fully worthy partner, much more assertive than Maisky was with Kremer and Bernstein on DG. Teldec comes out a clear winner on that score.
The conducting and playing are also quite different. Harnoncourt's Brahms symphonies from Berlin were outstanding--one of the handful of truly great postwar Brahms cycles. Here, with a different orchestra, he gets committed and beautiful playing, clear textures, and flowing tempos. Masur's New York players are just as skilled, but the sound he gets is less individual and less alert. Where every note in Harnoncourt's performances sounds as if it is being savored, much of Masur's work sounds like business as usual. Granted, the usual level of business here is very high, but the difference is hard to miss. The Teldec Amsterdam sound is better as well. DG's sound picture is a little shallow and hard. If you must pick one, Kremer is the one to have, but I would not want to be without Mutter's passionate and dreamy performance, looking back to Bruch and forward to Berg.
If you already have a Kremer Brahms concerto, whether to move on to this one is another tough question. His 1976 recording with Karajan (EMI) is still rewarding, with a pure and luminous reading of the solo part and orchestral playing of astonishing beauty. I don't know if there's anything on records quite like the opening of the slow movement there. The 1982 remake with Bernstein has a more inflected, rhetorical approach from both musicians (no surprise!), a weird Reger-derived cadenza, and a Bernsteinian moan that all but drowns the violin out at the climax of the slow movement. At least they both agreed where it was. If you like the Karajan performance, the new one will offer interesting insight into Kremer's growth as a player over 20 years. If you like the Bernstein, Harnoncourt's tempos and textures may be too lean for you.
Kremer, of course, is not the only one who made a celebrated recording of the Brahms with Karajan. Mutter made one with him at about the same time, when she was a teen-aged prodigy. I haven't been able to find a copy to listen to for this review, but I remember it as high-quality violin playing, remarkably mature for her age. The current Mutter is, of course, a complete artist with a range of color and expression far beyond what she (or probably anyone else) had as a teenager; and this new recording supersedes the old one.
DG has good notes by Bernard Jacobson and lots of hokey-looking pictures of the photogenic Ms Mutter, including one in the jewel box underneath the CD. No complaints from me. Teldec's notes are a little dry and mention (but don't specify) a few variant readings that Kremer and Harnoncourt use. The most spectacular of these is at the end of I when the solo violin skitters shiningly across the top of the orchestral part.