Texte paru dans: / Appeared in:
*  
GRAMOPHONE (4/2025)
Pour s'abonner / Subscription information






Analekta  AN2 8893/4

Code barres / Barcode : 0774204889326

Reviewer : Mark Seow
 

Blinded by brightness of intonation and the precipitous clarity of bow strokes,

I struggled with this album at first. On repeated listenings, however, the expected happened: I found myself sucked into the full-bodied warmth of James Ehnes’s playing. And I loved it.

Certainly, there are things with which to quibble. The unrelenting tempo primo in the final movement of the Concerto for violin and oboe, BWV1060R, the acidically untempered major thirds in the Concerto in E, BWV1042, or the pedantic and precise filigree in the Concerto in D, BWV1052R (I do not think the inclusion of the Concerto for flute, violin and harpsichord, BWV1044, adds much to the proceedings, either). But these fade somewhat into insignificance against the vivacity and commitment on show.

Ehnes is best in the Concerto in A minor, BWV1041. The second movement is simply sublime. His sound gleams, almost implausibly so, and still there is copious nuance within the luminosity. Ehnes organically moves between the innocent and hyperbolically operatic, the heartfelt and triumphant – it is an entirely convincing performance. Vibrato is masterfully controlled (though it is unlikely that Ehnes is having to ‘control’ anything – this song pours out of him as unimpeded as champagne at the Ritz).

His emotive malleability finds an excellent match in oboist Charles Hamann for BWV1060R. Hamann’s mellifluousness and rounded depth of sound is delightful – relish in his trill at 0'57" and just try not to smile.

The so-called ‘Bach Double’, probably the most famous concerto here, is a mixed bag. The central movement is a wonderful tempo for a Largo ma non tanto, and the gentle swing is buoyed by conviviality as Ehnes genially ducks out of the limelight to let fellow soloist Yosuke Kawasaki through. Admittedly it’s very different from my Baroque brew of choice – Rachel Podger and Andrew Manze’s saucily ornamented rendition (Harmonia Mundi, 4/97) – but there’s something wonderful about the overblown cantabile of it all, the lyricism of Ehnes and Kawasaki trying to outsing each other. The last movement is exciting, though some odd moments of rushing and grammatical impatience do more to destabilise than to enliven.

Cliquez l'un ou l'autre bouton pour découvrir bien d'autres critiques de CD
 Click either button for many other reviews