ELGAR VIOLIN CONCERTO: THOMAS BOWES
Rubicon
Classics RCD 1224
Yet another new recording of the Elgar Violin Concerto comes
tumbling through the letterbox, following on from distinguished offerings by
Vilde Frang, Christian Tetzlaff and Frank Peter Zimmermann. Stiff competition,
then, for Thomas Bowes, as well as for the Sinfonia Arcadiana conducted by Nic
Fallowfield, but this totally home-grown production, cultivated in the environs
of Elgar’s own countryside, comes through with more than flying colours.
The whole recording breathes a freshness and spontaneity in
which star-quality is not an issue. Here is a deeply-felt, honest response to this
giant of a concerto ranking only behind Beethoven and Mendelssohn in my
pantheon of greatness. The enterprise is also sprinkled with a bit of stardust,
set down in the same Abbey Road Studios in which the aged Elgar conducted the
16-year-old Yehudi Menuhin in their legendary recording.
Sinfonia Arcadiana is a session orchestra of the finest
musicians, named after the festival launched in the idyllic surroundings of
Bromfield, near Ludlow, by Bowes and his wife, the composer Eleanor Alberga
(more of her later). Under Fallowfield they
bring a wholehearted sweep to the opening tutti We could perhaps have relished
a bit more recorded clarity from the horns as the soloist’s first entry
approaches, but what a heart-piercing entry that is, Bowes immediately
displaying a gorgeously rich tone and range of colour from his 1659 Amati
Cremona instrument.
Elgar’s sense of grief is never far away, and the
‘Windflower’ second subject gives a pause for reflection upon what is unfolding.
As the movement, and indeed the rest of the Concerto progresses, we actually
hear from Bowes more of the detail of the solo writing than we do from some of
the more stellar names in the discography.
The modal, church-like quality of the opening of the slow
movement is perfectly captured by the unadorned simplicity of the soloist’s
delivery, combined with the brass-weighted Wagnerian spread of the orchestra.
We marvel again at the quality of Bowes’ Amati, singing throatily in its lowest
register then rising smoothly through the tessituras like a well-coached
mezzo-soprano.
After this world-stopping movement the finale bursts in with
a busy bustle , but introspection gradually takes over. Bowes’ virtuosity goes
almost unnoticed until the pause for his magisterial multiple-stopping of the
movement’s main subject. Fallowfield’s Arcadians are empathetic throughout,
keenly listening to the soloist and each other, sensitively bringing about the gradual
diffusion of earlier material into painful reminiscence.
The heroic coruscation takes us into the cadenza, Bowes
entering diffidently, the orchestra creating such a wonderful background for these
tortured outpourings. Bowes gets very close to the soul of Elgar’s rememberings
here. The famous orchestral thrumming is atmospherically done, allowing the
soloist a free range of fantasy before disappearing into regret. Everyone pulls
themselves together for the triumphant conclusion which, in view of everything
that has preceded it, seems unconvincingly hollow.
So heart-catching is this performance, I had to wait a day
before listening to the five encores: Salut d’Amour, Chanson de Nuit, La
Capricieuse, Sospiri and Chanson de Matin, the accompaniments newly
orchestrated by Eleanor Alberga. As a violin and piano duo Bowes and Alberga
have frequently performed these gorgeous miniatures, and now in these
arrangements Alberga has added delicate little woodland filigrees to the
textures. EA has certainly got inside the essence of EE.
La Capricieuse, Elgar’s gift to Fred Ward, his desk-partner
in Stockley’s Birmingham orchestra, is here brought to life as perky, piquant,
flirty and irresistible, and Sospiri is dignified, quietly powerful. My only
cavil is that this piece, which breathes something of the opening of the Violin
Concerto, should have concluded, bringing this remarkable disc to a satisfying
close.
Christopher Morley