Leaving aside works of doubtful authenticity, there are five Mozart violin concertos. As their lowish Kochel numbers tell us, they belong to the early part of his career; in fact, all were composed at Salzburg in 1775, or alternatively, as Christoph-Helmut Mahling suggested in the New Mozart Edition of 1983, No. 1 dates from 1773 while Nos. 2–5 followed two years later. They have always been overshadowed by the piano concertos, which are not only five times as numerous but also span the composer's whole career and include many mature masterpieces. And while this is understandable, it is a pity to miss out on these violin works, for they agreeably reflect their creator's love and understanding of an instrument which he himself played and which was his father Leopold's lifelong study. They also tell us much about the Salzburg court orchestra and the tastes of the time with its galanterie (admittedly sometimes routine), decorous wit and rococo elegance.
Sir Yehudi Menuhin recorded these concertos nearly 30 years ago between 1961 and 1963. The biggish, reverberant orchestral sound reflects its age, the dynamics lacking a softer range and the strings edgy in forte passages, although the characteristic tone of the soloist, set well forward, is captured well. Menuhin plays with brightness and a telling eloquence, giving every note and phrase plenty of weight and character. However, he pays something of a price in that his rhythmic freedom allows the momentum and tempo to waver in outer movements, that of No. 1 being a good example. He plays cadenzas of his own in all but No. 3, and these are larger than life and anachronistic in style—for example that of No. 1, lasting nearly a quarter of the first movement's total length, or that of No. 5, complete with thirds, tenths and left-hand pizzicato. Still, these are performances of attractive personality, as is that of the Sinfonia concertante with Rudolf Barshai the mellow violist, and the two well-filled discs are at bargain-price. There's a little background hiss, but it is not excessive.
Salvatore Accardo's recordings belong to 1990 and are digital, but for my taste the sound is not very suited to the music, being big and over-reverberant. At times the soloist's delivery is inflexibly didactic in such a way that he becomes something of a martinet and at times almost military in the precision and force of his attack. It's ultimately a tiring approach to these works, which need an element of feminine, Italianate charm alongside their more vigorous aspects, and not only in the more relaxed music of the slow middle movements—for example, Mozart marked the finale of No. 4 to be played ''gracefully''. Indeed, one wonders whether the Turin-born soloist/director is trying too hard here to avoid a natural Italianate sentimentality. But his way with the music is sometimes more persuasive and the playing is skilled on its own terms; others may like it more than I do. The wonderful Sinfonia concertante (1779) is a pretty good test for Mozartian performance style and here, rightly, the weighty first movement is not forced along. However, the sound of the orchestra is too thick and loud relative to the soloists, who play fluently enough but bring no special distinction to this work, save perhaps in the poignant Andante where they engage in effective dialogue.
In the Concertone Accardo has a sensitive partner in Margaret Batjer. His approach here is more relaxed, which is a pleasant surprise in view of the spiritoso marking for the first movment: this is an attractive performance. The absence of the popular 'Turkish' A major Violin Concerto, No. 5, from these Nuova Era is issues is probably explained by the discs being labelled Vols. 1, 2 and 4. So presumably there is to be a Vol. 3 which will include it; but in the meantime it can be seen that together the present three full-price CDs offer only seven minutes more music than the two bargain-price EMI discs from Menuhin and his Bath players, which also include all five of the solo concertos.
As the list above shows, the Philips issue of four discs is a comprehensive one. Henryk Szeryng has a relaxed way with the solo concertos, and the orchestral contribution from the New Philharmonia under Sir Alexander Gibson is alert yet sensitive. The soloist's tone is unfailingly beautiful, too, with an essential sweetness that Menuhin and Accardo in their different way both eschew. Arguably the result is a fraction over-suave, but I find its evident affection makes for pleasing listening, as do the well-chosen tempos; and the rumbustious 'Turkish' episode in the finale of No. 5 has spirit without harshness. The 1966–70 recordings are satisfying, as we so often find with this company. Of the versions of the solo concertos considered here, these are the ones that I would choose, Menuhin's being next, although I recognize that there are other views about the way the music should be played. The EMI issue is worth considering if you like a more forthright approach.
The Philips compilation, which is good value at medium-price, also includes the 'doubtful' but agreeable solo Concerto in D major, K271a, together with a thoughtful if rather laid-back account of the Sinfonia concertante with Iona Brown and Nobuko Imai as the soloists (beautifully matched and blending—e.g. in the cadenza to the first movement) and the Academy of St Martin in the Fields in fine form and digital sound. In addition we have the reconstruction by Philip Wilby (with the help of the Piano and Violin Sonata, K306) of the incomplete projected Concerto for keyboard and violin of 1778 and the same scholar's reconstruction of a single-movement Sinfonia concertante in A major for string trio and orchestra.
The three solo violin concertos on Ernst Kovacic's Pickwick IMP Classics disc include the disputed K271a. These are pleasing performances and if they are in the middle of the road interpretatively, that is no bad place to be: thus, neither the vigorous nor the lyrical elements of the music are given excessive prominence and all is held in a good balance. Like Menuhin, Kovacic is sometimes freer than I like rhythmically, but this is still playing to admire, although I feel the Adagio of No. 1 needs more poise and calm and one might also wonder about that of No. 3. Another good recording, made by the producer John Boyden in Govan Town Hall, near Glasgow, in August 1990.
Now in his early sixties, Josef Suk is no stranger to the Mozart violin concertos, and this 1989 recording shows him bringing both sweetness and a sometimes surprising urgency to their outer movements and a rich eloquence to the slow middle ones. The Czech chamber orchestra that bears his name (it was named after his composer grandfather, Dvorak's son-in-law) plays neatly and sensitively under his leadership. In the Sinfonia concertante he is joined by the violist of the Alban Berg Quartet. Together they give a slightly severe but impressive performance in which their different sounds complement each other well. The recording is a good one and at medium-price this, too, is a desirable and well-filled disc.'