More Mozart
Posted by: Todd A on 02 August 2003
Q: Can one ever have too much Mozart?
A: Of course not!
The last few months I have been on something of a Mozart binge, adding about two dozen Mozart recordings to my collection, bringing my total Wolfie collection to over one hundred discs. (Only Haydn and Beethoven are in that category in my collection.) Performance and sound quality vary, of course, but all of the recordings have been worth a listen. And all will be worth repeated listens. Rather than go into detail on each recording, I’ll cover some of the highlights.
I’ll start with the Andante set of Mozart and the Vienna Philharmonic. Now that’s a nice combo. Disc one of this three disc extravaganza finds Maurizio Pollini playing three concertos while also leading the rightly vaunted Wiener Philharmoniker. Pollini is many things, and he is certainly one of the greatest living pianists, perhaps even the greatest, but he is not a Mozartian, at least on the evidence of these performances. He plays the 12th, 14th, and the great D minor 20th concertos. In these 1981 performances, his playing is clean and precise, as one would expect, but it is not especially, well, ingratiating. Also as one would expect. He just does not convince me of his love of this music, at least in the earlier two concertos. The D minor fairs much better than the other two, with a dark, brooding overall approach. I would rate this last performance very good, perhaps even excellent, but much better is available. The sound is pretty good, though Pollini is oddly stage left. The orchestra plays wonderfully. Of course.
The second disc finds the Oistrakhs in concert. The Sinfonia Concertante comes off very nicely, both father and son playing their parts with obvious devotion. This is not a big work for me, so I cannot really make great claims for or against it, but it is nice and will be spun again. The Jupiter, with David conducting, is somewhat strange. Oistrakh is unquestionably one of the great violinists of the past century. His conducting skills are somewhat less convincing. The inner movements seem to drag a bit at times, and they meander – Where’s he going? One wonders. But the opening and closing movements are very good; the finale is electric. I’ll say it’s a good performance. The sound is good, and, again, the band plays wonderfully.
The final disc makes the set: Josef Krips’ 1973 performance of the Requiem. Lucia Popp is the soprano soloist, and sounds beautiful, as always. Walter Berry, Anton Dermona, and Margarita Lilowa round out the soloists, all of whom do a superb job. Overall, this is now the best version of the Requiem I have heard. Somewhat like Abbado’s most recent recording of Verdi’s Requiem, this is a somewhat harsh, austere reading, devoid of great beauty, but instead filled with an intensity that grips one’s attention from first note to last. I can only assume that Krips’ illness, like Abbado’s, made him more intent to deliver something beyond the pretty sounds so many performances of this work seem to focus on. There is a forcefulness, a drive that is riveting. It is amazing stuff. My guess is that it could very well evoke a Love It or Hate It response. I love it. Sound and playing are excellent. I can’t say the whole set is worth the regular asking price, but the Requiem sure is.
Time to move on to some more piano concertos. First I picked up a dirt-cheap Apex reissue of Friedrich Gulda on the piano and Nikolaus Harnoncourt conducting the Concertgebouw in the 23rd and 26th concertos. Both concertos are exceptionally well played, with Gulda, in particular, adding some unique insights to the solo roles. I must say that Harnoncourt sometimes focuses too much on little details – you know, more emphasis on the winds here for just this long – rather than focusing on the whole, but Gulda’s playing is the reason to hear the recordings.
Then there’s Robert Casadesus. After buying the complete Casadesus Edition earlier this year, I thought I was done. But no! I stumbled upon a used Orfeo release of the 24th and 27th concertos, under Mitropoulos and Schuricht, respectively, both with the Vienna Philharmonic. The 1956 and 1961 mono recordings, both sounding quite good if not miraculous, reveal a different approach than the stupendous recordings with Szell. The 24th is basically Mozart as Beethoven. There are very wide dynamic swings – much more so than normal – and a very romantic, fitful energy to this concerto. This ain’t no dainty Mozart. This is tough stuff. The 27th, by contrast, is lighter and more playful than normal. These are unusual performances, and though I think I’ll turn to the Casadesus / Szell performances far more often, I’ll enjoy returning to these for a change of pace.
On an entirely different level are Clara Haskil’s Westminster recordings of the 19th and 20th concertos, coupled with Beethoven’s C minor and 11 Scarlatti sonatas, respectively. Haskil’s playing is not technically dazzling, her tone neither especially beautiful nor harsh, her dynamics not especially impressive; in short, she seems somewhat limited. But there is a certain intangible, indescribable something in her playing that makes her recordings incomparable. Both readings, hell all of the pieces named, possess a somewhat somber feeling. Major key works bring little relief. And her playing reveals musical truths more in diminuendo than crescendo. Softer is better, Haskil says, or, rather, plays. These are not virtuosic feats, these are introspective pieces, revealing an aspect to the music that mere key pounding cannot. Perhaps I wax too poetic, and no doubt I have “discovered” Haskil later than I should have, and no doubt others are not as fond of her as I am, but now that I have found her, I must have more of her recordings. She is astounding. These recordings are astounding.
Also needing some solo piano recordings, I opted to take Amazon France’s last in-stock box of Lili Kraus playing the complete piano sonatas on Sony. This here’s a nice box. But not great. The overly close and dry sound no doubt hampering things a bit, Kraus’ tone is very straight forward and not very beautiful. While she possesses impeccable timing and control, her playing is not as nuanced as at least some of the sonatas demand. That written, her K332 and K576 are both superb. Great even. I enjoyed this set immensely, usually listening to two or three sonatas at a time, but when I pulled out Walter Klien’s set as a comparison, it became clear that Ms. Kraus was missing something. I do strongly recommend the set, but better are out there.
I conclude this long post by reiterating that one can never have enough Mozart. Perhaps I have missed a great recording or ten? Please let me know what they are.
"The universe is change, life is opinion." Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
A: Of course not!
The last few months I have been on something of a Mozart binge, adding about two dozen Mozart recordings to my collection, bringing my total Wolfie collection to over one hundred discs. (Only Haydn and Beethoven are in that category in my collection.) Performance and sound quality vary, of course, but all of the recordings have been worth a listen. And all will be worth repeated listens. Rather than go into detail on each recording, I’ll cover some of the highlights.
I’ll start with the Andante set of Mozart and the Vienna Philharmonic. Now that’s a nice combo. Disc one of this three disc extravaganza finds Maurizio Pollini playing three concertos while also leading the rightly vaunted Wiener Philharmoniker. Pollini is many things, and he is certainly one of the greatest living pianists, perhaps even the greatest, but he is not a Mozartian, at least on the evidence of these performances. He plays the 12th, 14th, and the great D minor 20th concertos. In these 1981 performances, his playing is clean and precise, as one would expect, but it is not especially, well, ingratiating. Also as one would expect. He just does not convince me of his love of this music, at least in the earlier two concertos. The D minor fairs much better than the other two, with a dark, brooding overall approach. I would rate this last performance very good, perhaps even excellent, but much better is available. The sound is pretty good, though Pollini is oddly stage left. The orchestra plays wonderfully. Of course.
The second disc finds the Oistrakhs in concert. The Sinfonia Concertante comes off very nicely, both father and son playing their parts with obvious devotion. This is not a big work for me, so I cannot really make great claims for or against it, but it is nice and will be spun again. The Jupiter, with David conducting, is somewhat strange. Oistrakh is unquestionably one of the great violinists of the past century. His conducting skills are somewhat less convincing. The inner movements seem to drag a bit at times, and they meander – Where’s he going? One wonders. But the opening and closing movements are very good; the finale is electric. I’ll say it’s a good performance. The sound is good, and, again, the band plays wonderfully.
The final disc makes the set: Josef Krips’ 1973 performance of the Requiem. Lucia Popp is the soprano soloist, and sounds beautiful, as always. Walter Berry, Anton Dermona, and Margarita Lilowa round out the soloists, all of whom do a superb job. Overall, this is now the best version of the Requiem I have heard. Somewhat like Abbado’s most recent recording of Verdi’s Requiem, this is a somewhat harsh, austere reading, devoid of great beauty, but instead filled with an intensity that grips one’s attention from first note to last. I can only assume that Krips’ illness, like Abbado’s, made him more intent to deliver something beyond the pretty sounds so many performances of this work seem to focus on. There is a forcefulness, a drive that is riveting. It is amazing stuff. My guess is that it could very well evoke a Love It or Hate It response. I love it. Sound and playing are excellent. I can’t say the whole set is worth the regular asking price, but the Requiem sure is.
Time to move on to some more piano concertos. First I picked up a dirt-cheap Apex reissue of Friedrich Gulda on the piano and Nikolaus Harnoncourt conducting the Concertgebouw in the 23rd and 26th concertos. Both concertos are exceptionally well played, with Gulda, in particular, adding some unique insights to the solo roles. I must say that Harnoncourt sometimes focuses too much on little details – you know, more emphasis on the winds here for just this long – rather than focusing on the whole, but Gulda’s playing is the reason to hear the recordings.
Then there’s Robert Casadesus. After buying the complete Casadesus Edition earlier this year, I thought I was done. But no! I stumbled upon a used Orfeo release of the 24th and 27th concertos, under Mitropoulos and Schuricht, respectively, both with the Vienna Philharmonic. The 1956 and 1961 mono recordings, both sounding quite good if not miraculous, reveal a different approach than the stupendous recordings with Szell. The 24th is basically Mozart as Beethoven. There are very wide dynamic swings – much more so than normal – and a very romantic, fitful energy to this concerto. This ain’t no dainty Mozart. This is tough stuff. The 27th, by contrast, is lighter and more playful than normal. These are unusual performances, and though I think I’ll turn to the Casadesus / Szell performances far more often, I’ll enjoy returning to these for a change of pace.
On an entirely different level are Clara Haskil’s Westminster recordings of the 19th and 20th concertos, coupled with Beethoven’s C minor and 11 Scarlatti sonatas, respectively. Haskil’s playing is not technically dazzling, her tone neither especially beautiful nor harsh, her dynamics not especially impressive; in short, she seems somewhat limited. But there is a certain intangible, indescribable something in her playing that makes her recordings incomparable. Both readings, hell all of the pieces named, possess a somewhat somber feeling. Major key works bring little relief. And her playing reveals musical truths more in diminuendo than crescendo. Softer is better, Haskil says, or, rather, plays. These are not virtuosic feats, these are introspective pieces, revealing an aspect to the music that mere key pounding cannot. Perhaps I wax too poetic, and no doubt I have “discovered” Haskil later than I should have, and no doubt others are not as fond of her as I am, but now that I have found her, I must have more of her recordings. She is astounding. These recordings are astounding.
Also needing some solo piano recordings, I opted to take Amazon France’s last in-stock box of Lili Kraus playing the complete piano sonatas on Sony. This here’s a nice box. But not great. The overly close and dry sound no doubt hampering things a bit, Kraus’ tone is very straight forward and not very beautiful. While she possesses impeccable timing and control, her playing is not as nuanced as at least some of the sonatas demand. That written, her K332 and K576 are both superb. Great even. I enjoyed this set immensely, usually listening to two or three sonatas at a time, but when I pulled out Walter Klien’s set as a comparison, it became clear that Ms. Kraus was missing something. I do strongly recommend the set, but better are out there.
I conclude this long post by reiterating that one can never have enough Mozart. Perhaps I have missed a great recording or ten? Please let me know what they are.
"The universe is change, life is opinion." Marcus Aurelius, Meditations