Common to these performances, both of which were mined from the archives of the French National Audiovisual Institute, is the conducting of Romanian-born Monteux pupil Charles Bruck, a naturalized Frenchman whose main claim to fame, catalogue-wise, is the first-ever recording of Prokofiev's opera, The Fiery Angel. In fact, the Brahms Violin Concerto is no newcomer to Bruck's slender discography: an earlier commercial version, first issued in France in the 1950s, had the young Leonid Kogan as soloist. The most interesting feature of this coupling is the way in which Bruck accommodates and reflects the very different interpretative personalities of his two soloists, merely cushioning the highly cultivated, intelligent and above all urbane David Oistrakh, yet rising to the heat, ardour and spontaneity of Christian Ferras's more overtly demonstrative approach. In both cases, the orchestral score is handled very much a la Monteux, with clean lines, sane tempos and a sure sense of structure. A few minor blips in execution (both orchestrally and soloistically) are of little consequence, given the integrity and honesty of the music-making.
Timings-wise, there's not a great deal to choose between the two, but in terms of attack, articulation, phrasing and tonal projection, they're worlds apart. Oistrakh has the drier tone (but remember that this was taped towards the end of his career) and crisper turn-of-phrase; his playing has greater poise, and his timing is invariably spot-on. He plays Joachim's classic cadenza whereas Ferras, in keeping with his more lyrical approach, opts for Kreisler's. As heard here, Ferras's 'sound' is fruitier, more sensual than Oistrakh's; his vibrato has greater intensity, his attack more force and he is rather more inclined to bend the basic tempo. Yet, oddly, it's Oistrakh who emerges as the more flexible of the two, mainly because his performance breathes more naturally, his head is rarely ruled by his heart, but his heart still speaks. Readers familiar with both artists' commercial recordings of the work will probably recognize what they hear, but they may also be surprised at how a partnership can lead to subtle changes that, taken cumulatively, add up to something quite unexpected. I personally prefer Oistrakh, but Ferras's performance has a passionate abandon (not unlike Menuhin in his prime) that other readers will surely warm to. The mono recordings are fairly respectable except for what sounds like a spot of over-modulation that sits in and around Ferras's solo line.'