There are two violinists at work on this recording, and it doesn’t take anything away from Vilde Frang’s exhilarating performance to say so. In Beethoven’s concerto there is nothing remotely laboured about her playing, yet her light touch and unfailingly sweet tone is the vehicle for a satisfyingly large-scale interpretation. In the Stravinsky that sweetness acquires a swagger and firmness of purpose that yields to reveal something dark and deeply felt in the slow movement. In both works, her playing is constantly alive to the music’s swirling undercurrents of electric energy.
But she’s not alone in this. The other violinist is Pekka Kuusisto, who readily admits he used to laugh at instrumentalists who thought they could become a conductor “just like that”, but who might have to eat his words: in only a few years since a hand injury led him to take several months out of playing, he has developed a flourishing parallel career on the podium. This is his first recording as conductor and, in front of the Deutsche Kammerphilharmonie Bremen – with whom he has the cutesily titled position of artistic best friend – he is insightful and absolutely in control. Not a note, whether from Frang or the excellent players of the Kammerphilharmonie, is routine – the level of attention to detail is hugely rewarding.
In the Beethoven, the colossal first movement in particular has an easy flow that belies its scale, and the ending of that movement is brilliantly handled, moving from a profound sense of peace to affirmative joy in a few seconds. In the Stravinsky, the chugging orchestral motor is restless, absolutely in time yet constantly varying in texture, thanks to the Kammerphilharmonie players’ care for colour. They form the ideal support for Frang’s searching playing, with Kuusisto using his inside-out knowledge of these scores to draw soloist and orchestra into a tightly knit team.
This week’s other pick
During lockdown, the violinist Sara Trickey began making weekly YouTube videos in which she performed short solo pieces at home; in From an Empty Room she brings 10 of these works together into a wide-ranging programme. Alongside an elegant account of Prokofiev’s late solo sonata and some simply eloquent Telemann it includes first recordings of works by Sally Beamish and Errollyn Wallen, pieces written for Trickey by David Matthews, Lyell Cresswell and James Francis Brown, and a hauntingly beautiful track by the 20th-century Norwegian composer Bjarne Brustad.
