In some respects, this is the ultimate CD bargain: a single concerto recording that can be reprogrammed to incorporate any one of 14 separate cadenzas. It’s a brilliant idea, though whether this particular performance will bear such frequent repetition is open to doubt. Ruggiero Ricci’s playing is bright, fairly agile and occasionally sharp; his vibrato is less insistent than it once was, and although signs of frailty surface here and there, his cultivated musicianship remains intact. The main problem, however, is with the half-hearted orchestral accompaniment – not the sort of thing to inflict on this of all concertos. As to the cadenzas themselves, Ricci gives each piece his best shot – which is no mean feat for a 76-year-old, especially given the copious technical demands involved.
Musically, there is much to savour. Beethoven’s own cadenza is of course a reworking (by Wolfgang Schneiderhan) of a parallel episode in his piano concerto version of the work. Quite aside from using the timpani – something that Busoni and Schnittke also do – he introduces a skipping dance-tune based on the movement’s lyrical second subject. The earliest, and perhaps least familiar, cadenza on this disc is by Ferdinand David, a brilliant violinist who premiered Mendelssohn’s E minor Concerto and whose two-minute tour de force anticipates Joachim.
The biggest stylistic gulf is between genuinely creative cadenzas and those composed merely for the sake of technical display, Schnittke epitomizing the former (with ingenious references to concertos by Brahms, Bartok and Shostakovich, not to mention Beethoven’s own Seventh Symphony), while Auer, Ferdinand Laub and Milstein represent the latter. Ysaye’s cadenza is harmonically rich and has pizzicatos imitating the timpani beats (Laub does the same sort of thing, but far less effectively), whereas Wieniawski sets the second theme to a novel trilling accompaniment. Vieuxtemps modulates very much in the style of his own concerto, Busoni opens his cadenza in the manner of Bach and the young Kreisler tops most of his rivals with an inspired merging of the concerto’s two principal themes. My other favourite cadenza, by that staunch Beethovenian Camille Saint-Saens, is stylish, playful and refreshingly free of unmusical pyrotechnics. There are two Joachim cadenzas, the first being far less well known than the second (with its commanding chordal opening and echoes of David). All 14 pieces can be incorporated into the main body of the first movement by using the CD player’s programming button.
The sound is adequate and so is the annotation, save that more precise datings would have been useful. An invaluable compilation and a worthy follow-up to Ricci’s similarly revealing Brahms Violin Concerto bonanza (also on Biddulph, 2/92), but if the concerto alone is your main priority, you would be better advised to look elsewhere.'