This CD introduces a new name to me—the soloist Michael Ludwig. He seems to be quite a find. His sound isn’t the largest or most robust but his playing is musicianly and very secure. He is superbly accompanied by the Royal Scottish National Orchestra conducted by one of the leading female conductors, the American JoAnn Falletta. The warm and spacious sound of Glasgow’s Henry Wood Hall will be well known to Naxos collectors and the recording is as good as one could wish, making this disc an invaluable one for lovers of Romantic and post-Romantic violin concertos.

A Naxos kiadta Dohnányi két hegeduversenyét, amerikai karmesterrel és szólistával, skót zenekarral. Dicséretes, tiszteletre méltó tett. Ha nem lenne jellemzo a kiadó szinte minden lemezborítójára az olcsó, minden komolyabb vizuális elképzelést nélkülözo tipográfia és képi elrendezés, azt gondolhatnánk, nem egy kiemelt kiadvány ez a Naxos életében. Hogy ez mennyire célt tévesztett gondolat lenne, azt az is bizonyítja, hogy a lemez egy Dohnányi muveit csokorba szedo széria része.

A romantic revisiting…where moments of great originality lift the music

Fascinating to hear these two works one after the other, the First Concerto (1915) representing the naively romantic world that the Second (1946) revisits so poignantly, and so knowingly. The First Concerto employs the harmonic language of Wagner and Strauss in combination with rich Brahmsian textures, its most memorable moment being the harp-accompanied melody in the Andante second movement. Both concertos are sizeable four-movement structures, but the First is the less disciplined of the two by far with a l4-minute finale that incorporates both a Brahmsian-style chorale theme and a Mendelssohnian use of arpeggios.

The second violin concerto, which has been recorded several times, hardly fits into any category. At first, you think of Brahms, but the melodies are a bit too sweet. Then Max Bruch, but hardly as saccharine. The concerto is “well-made”, like so many late 19th Century virtuoso works, but this was md-20th-century. What we do find, under Mr. Ludwig, is a piece of late romanticism, which begins with a cadenza, and continues with two or three more dazzling solos, along with the most lush soaring themes. The following movement, less than four movements long, is a bumptious romp. (The double-stopping centre is close to a Brahms Hungarian dance, but hardly Hungarian.) The last two movements bear all the tricks of the well-trained composer, including several delightful cadenzas.

That work, written in Florida, is supposedly more “mature”. But give me the first concerto, written in 1915! The atmosphere is more mysterious, the tunes a bit stranger, the orchestral atmosphere a bit swampy, almost cinematic. Of course “movie music” wasn’t composed until 18 years later, so the atmosphere starts with true originality. By the time of the finale, one feels again that this is merely a well-constructed work, working in various fugues and canons. Dohanányi, though, does have a wonderful way with solo orchestra instruments, and his little obbligati for winds give it as much color as the violin itself. To me, the most stunning part of the whole disk is a cadenza at the end of this concerto accompanied first by solo French and then an orchestral fugato as Mr. Ludwig plays above it. Michael Ludwig is no ordinary soloist. Now First Chair with the Buffalo Symphony Orchestra, he has managed to fit in concertos with the Chicago and Philadelphia orchestra, with recitals around the world and several recordings. I have never heard him live, but he is obviously not afraid to take chances with his repertory. Nor does he stint on his playing, which is broad, bravura when necessary, and with a grand sweep. His virtuosity is evident in both works here.

The Royal Scottish Orchestra well deserves its sobriquet, with soaring horn calls, a classic trumpet solo in the second concerto, some liquid winds, and, under JoAnn Falletta, a conductor who gives as much verve to her orchestra as her soloist gives to the music.

The recording by Naxos is well focused, and the program notes by Keith Anderson—Naxos’ very first annotator—are, as always, informative and detailed. Not that the music needs such detail. It is as accessible as Bruch, as rich at times as Brahms, and has enough fireworks to inspire both soloist and audience.