Abendroth Unissued Performances(转发)

Hermann Abendroth (1883-1956) earned a reputation as “the alternate Furtwaengler,” a conductor of deep penetrating temperament and catholic taste. Despite the reissue of much of Abendroth’s materials by Berlin Classics and the pirate label Arlecchino, a cache of recorded documents lies with East German Radio archives, from which these two studio concerto collaborations derive. The Beethoven Concerto in G Major (27 March 1950) with Cortot pupil Branka Musulin (1920-1975) projects Classical lines in the form of intimate sentiments. Musulin’s is not a particularly bold sound, but she conveys a delicate poetry, albeit the brush strokes tend to be a mite careful. We can hear in Musulin’s arpeggios and soft staccati her capacities as an interpreter of Mozart and Chopin, which seems to have been her specialty. Musulin’s cadenza commands some attention: a soft fantasia on the four-beat motto, it spins a series of arpeggios and double notes that gravitate into chromatic wreaths and a grand trill. Abendroth masterfully insinuates the orchestral tissue back into the mix for a deliberate and fanciful coda of swaying power. The Andante con moto is among the slowest such meditations I have heard, as if the pianist were daydreaming. An air of mystery touches the Rondo, again played for gossamer beauty than for tensile strength, though Musulin can take the 16ths runs in strong fashion. The motion becomes quite visceral, even so keeping the plastic luminosity of Beethoven’s colors; and the final cadenza, subsequent trills, and resounding coda reveal an artist of intelligent sympathy.

The Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto (18 November 1950) with Guenther Kootz adds a significant work to the Abendroth discography. I can find no biographical data on pianist Kootz, just listings for some disparate LPs and a Choral Fantasy of Beethoven with Konwitschny on CD. With Abendroth at the helm, Kootz takes a broad approach to the first movement of the Tchaikovsky, his tone firm but a mite brittle, certainly not the granite we hear from Richter and Karajan. The presto passages really fly, and Kootz’s double octaves are no mean effort. The dialogues with flute and French horn have character, as do Abendroth’s ferocious tuttis. A bit distantly miked, the oboe and strings manage a soft aura that surrounds Kootz’s cascading arpeggios and repeated riffs, the crescendo carrying us to the much-awaited cadenza, executed with a doyen’s leisure. The sweep to the coda, rhetorical as it is in its modulation to B-flat Major, yet captures our collective sense of that well-wrought urn made music. The D-flat Major Andantino keeps Kootz’s high registers in relief, the woodwinds articulate. The motivic workings-out cannily urge this movement’s connection to the famed introduction of the first movement. The balletic cast of the last pages gives us much to admire in this rendition. The Allegro con fuoco, taken a mite moderato, enjoys a suave line and melodic curve rather than mere lightning bolts from the principals. Kootz’s right hand filigree proves adept, and he can turn on the velocity at will. The ineluctable crescendo over a pedal mounts to the Tristanesque release, Kootz taking his rocket to romantic galaxies. Quite a resounding surprise, this collaboration, and kudos to Tahra for having issued it.