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

 

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