Two versions of the Beethoven Violin Concerto from Itzhak Perlman (both EMI), two vintage Philips ones from Arthur Grumiaux, the earlier just reissued on their budget label, Concert Classics—they are all in their way superb performances, combining immaculate fiddle-playing with rare depth of insight. That makes the comparisons all the more illuminating, even when the two Grumiaux versions, at bargain and mid-price respectively, date from well before the era of digital recording. In fact, as transferred the orchestral textures are more cleanly defined not only in the 1974 version with the Concertgebouw, but the 1966 one with the New Philharmonia, even if they both lack the fullest range. If it were not for the relatively high tape hiss of the 1966 version, I would be inclined to prefer that in sound to the other three.
Not that the new Perlman, recorded at a live concert in 1986 in the Philharmonie in Berlin, brings poor sound, but the orchestral textures tend to get a little clotted. What justifies the idea of a live recording entirely is the way that Perlman plays—particularly in the first movement—with an extra flair and individuality, spontaneous in imagination when spurred by a live event. Next to it even the fine studio performance he did with Giulini, one of the most spacious and rapt ever recorded, sounds just a little square by comparison, though many will prefer Giulini's simpler, less moulded manner in the accompaniment. Where in a lot of live performances one has to make allowances, there are precious few blemishes of any kind to worry anyone here, and much to cherish in the extra liveness of communication. Though applause is generally unwelcome on record, one can hardly complain that EMI includes 45 seconds of the ovation which greeted the violinist at the end of his relaxed yet brilliant account of the finale.
The power and purposefulness of Perlman's reading is established instantly on his very first entry after the opening tutti, and the free expressiveness and dynamism contrast not only with his own earlier, more reflective reading, but with both of the Grumiaux performances with their wonderful poise and purity of tone. In the age of LP I remember comparing them, and concluding that though the earlier brought a deeper, more inward reading of the slow movement, the later one was stronger in the outer movements with the latest CD of the 1966 version bringing much brighter, cleaner sound than the original LP, I now prefer it in all three movements, with Grumiaux almost always sounding more spontaneous, freer and more individual in his expressiveness, as in the transition into the second subject of the first movement (4'40''). There he allows himself to expand luxuriantly at the end of the solo link with its high E, and then in renewed ecstasy to expand again for his first stratospheric statement of the theme itself. Later, too, in the G minor episode of the development Grumiaux in this first version conveys a wonderful sense of mystery, a quality which marks his ethereal account of the slow movement too.
Not that Perlman with his extra command and warmly individual expression is outshone. Anyone wanting a modern digital version cannot do better than opt for this latest one. The two Romances, recorded by the same performers in the studio, are just as persuasive, with Perlman winningly sweet and tender in his expansive account of No. 2.
Both the Grumiaux versions of the Concerto have that same ideal coupling, and though the version of the Romances on the latest budget Concert Classics issue dates from 1960, as against the 1970 recording for those on their mid-price Silver Line version; the sound is clearer and more forward. That of the 1974 version of the Concerto is open and reverberant in the Concertgebouw manner, with the orchestra in tuttis sometimes seeming a little too distanced. As I say, the snag for some regarding the Concert Classics issue will be the relatively high level of tape-hiss, but even taking no account of the price, it makes an outstanding recommendation.
All four versions of the Concerto use the Kreisler cadenza in the first movement, superbly done in each, but it is Perlman's latest, recorded live, that caps all the others in sheer exdtement and bravura. On this showing Perlman might consider the idea of live recording in other repertory concertos too. Though, as ever, his violin is balanced well forward, the sound is not overbearing.'