This is the most personal reading of Vivaldi's much-recorded set of concertos that I have ever heard. It is even more so than Kennedy's much publicized version on EMI with its gimmicky glissando and quarter-tone passages. Where Kennedy, generally adopting fast speeds, hits hard and direct (the modern virtuoso making his mark), Mutter is above all deeply reflective, reacting emotionally to each movement, allowing herself a free expansiveness at generally broad speeds. Not surprisingly, this is a far more intimate reading than her previous version with Karajan and the Vienna Philharmonic. Not only is the string ensemble much smaller, with only 13 players plus harpsichord continuo (4.4.3.2.1), against 23 under Karajan (8.6.4.3.2), the sound is bright and immediate, resulting in dynamic contrasts being dramatically underlined, with Mutter less spotlit than most violin virtuosos tackling this work.
Not only that, the Norwegian players respond to her individual expressiveness with total sympathy, each reacting to the other in true chamber-style. The result is a performance which repeatedly brings out the mystery in these atmospheric sound pictures. Purists will no doubt resist, but others will find a rare depth conveyed in pianissimos that make you catch the breath. Not that the results ever sound self-conscious, for alertness and spontaneity are the keynotes. Interestingly, Mutter varies her tone far more than in her version with Karajan, generally a purer, less 'fat' tone than before, at times stilling her vibrato in a way that one associates with period performance, conveying an other-worldly quality. Yet in the heavenly melody of the central Largo of the final concerto, Winter, she does give way to a full romantic treatment at a very broad speed.
That leads naturally to her account of Tartini's Devil's Trill Sonata. Here, as in her previous recording - one of the items on a virtuoso showpiece disc, 'Carmen-Fantasie' (DG, 10/93) - she uses Zandonai's string arrangement, this time with harpsichord rather than piano continuo. Though this is a lighter reading than before, Mutter again takes an unashamedly romantic view of the piece, providing a worthwhile makeweight to a version of the Four Seasons which, whatever its controversial aspects, is magnetic from first to last. What I cannot fathom, even with the help of the Mutter interview included with the disc, is how the performance relates to the violinist's love of the paintings of Gotthard Graubner, an artist who favours flat, unrelieved slabs of colour.'