Jean Sibelius (1865-1957)
Violin Concerto in D major, Op 47 (1905)
Sergei Prokofiev (1891-1953)
Violin Concerto No 1 in D major, Op 19 (1917)
Janine Jansen (violin)
Oslo Philharmonic/Klaus Mäkelä
rec. 2023, Konserthus, Oslo, Norway
Decca 485 4748 [55]
I have read somewhere that these are Janine Jansen’s first concerto recordings in nine years. If that’s the case, I don’t know why she’s not set down any concerto recordings for such a long time but I’m delighted that she has returned to the genre with two of my favourite twentieth-century concertos. Here, she’s joined by Klaus Mäkelä and the Oslo Philharmonic. I’ve heard and enjoyed a number of Mäkelä’s recordings in the last couple of years but I’ve not so far encountered him on disc as an accompanist. Since I admired the Sibelius symphony cycle which he made in Oslo (review), I was especially keen to experience his partnership with Jansen in the Sibelius concerto.
The first movement of the Sibelius concerto calls for a mix of poetry and virtuosity from the soloist and I think Jansen amply satisfies both requirements. The crystalline purity with which she plays the opening theme makes a fine impression and as the movement unfolds, I find her delivery of the poetic passages richly satisfying. She’s no less successful in the episodes where Sibelius calls for dark-hued drama or more overt virtuosity, not least in the cadenza. The orchestral contribution is distinguished; it’s evident that both the Oslo Philharmonic and Mäkelä are steeped in the Sibelius idiom. I thought this account of the first movement was compelling.
At the very start of the slow movement, the way the engineers have recorded the woodwind, led off by the clarinets and then the oboes, demonstrates the very fine quality of the recorded sound in both of these concerto performances. The woodwinds are heard most truthfully and you get a nice sense of the acoustic of the hall around the instruments. Jansen is deeply expressive and subtle in the way she delivers her first, extended solo. Later, the tone changes and Sibelius includes an orchestral tutti of passionate power; Mäkelä and his orchestra are highly eloquent here. For the most part, though, the focus is on the soloist’s yearning lyricism and in these stretches of music I find Jansen captivating. She and the orchestra play the end of the movement in a mesmerising hush. As the finale begins, Tovey’s celebrated quip about ‘a polonaise for polar bears’ inevitably comes to mind; yet, as I listened, I reflected that in this instance the said bears would need to be light on their feet because Mäkelä, while emphasising the rhythm, does so in a way that avoids any suggestion of undue heaviness. There’s energy and a nicely purposeful pace in this account of the movement. Jansen responds keenly to the tone set from the podium and her playing emphasises the high spirits of the music. This is a very considerable account of the Sibelius concerto; I admired and enjoyed it in equal measure.
In his helpful notes, Andrew Mellor tells us that the origins of what became Prokofiev’s First Violin Concerto go back to 1915 when the composer was evacuated to a village in the Caucasus region where he fell for a local girl who was younger than he was. Her parents soon put a stop to any romance but the tenderly wistful theme heard right at the start of the concerto was written at that time. Prokofiev incorporated the melody into the concerto when he started serious work on it in 1917.
I love the gorgeous, subdued wistfulness with which Jansen opens the concerto; she’s accompanied with the utmost finesse by the Oslo Philharmonic. During this first movement she mixes rapturous playing with episodes of pointed playfulness. The accompaniment is at all times refined. My ear was caught by Jansen’s spiky virtuosity at around 6:00 but even more arresting is the rendition of the last couple of minutes of the movement, starting at 7:36. A soft, mysterious carpet of string chords paves the way for the solo flute to reprise the movement’s opening theme, accompanied by ultra-delicate decoration by Jansen. This is magical music-making and this exquisite, imaginative musicianship carries us through to the end of the movement.
The central Scherzo offers a stimulating contrast with what has gone before. This is fast, vivacious and witty music; Jansen and Mäkelä are infectious exponents of this music. Hereabouts, everything is delivered with pinpoint accuracy. The finale opens with a ‘tick-tock’ ostinato, so characteristic of Prokofiev; over this, the solo violin weaves a lyrical spell. In this movement I was impressed yet again by the way Jansen gets her violin to sing in lyrical music. At 6:10 it’s a wonderful moment when Prokofiev brings back the wistful melody which was the starting point for our journey through this concerto; hereabouts, the composer’s scoring is most inventive. There’s no barnstorming end to this concerto, offering the soloist one last opportunity for display; instead, the reprise of the opening melody, in warm tranquillity, brings the concerto almost full circle. Throughout the work Jansen, Mäkelä and the Oslo Philharmonic impress in virtuoso passages but it’s the lyrical side of their performance that lingers longest in the memory. This is super performance, combining solo playing that draws the listener in and an expertly calibrated orchestral accompaniment.
I reviewed these performances from a CD. I understand that if you buy the download version you get an additional item in the shape of a very early piece entitled Water Drops, JS 216. Here, Jansen is joined by Klaus Mäkelä playing the cello. I’m not quite sure why this wasn’t included on the CD but since the piece in question is extremely short, I don’t think CD purchasers need feel deprived.
As I indicated earlier in the review, the sound quality is excellent. I’m not surprised because when I checked back, I discovered that the same team – producer Jørn Pedersen and engineers Arne Akselberg and Asgeir Grong – was responsible for Mäkelä’s recent set of Shostakovich’s symphonies 4, 5 and 6; those performances were also presented in first class sound. The two recordings on this disc bear all the hallmarks of the Shostakovich set: presence; clarity of detail; and a good sense of the surrounding acoustic. In addition, the Decca team have here produced a very satisfactory balance between Jansen and the orchestra. You can hear the soloist nicely foregrounded but not in such a way that the violin dominates; the instrument is very clearly heard but so is the orchestra.
I enjoyed this CD very much. It contains terrific performances of two key works in the violin concerto repertoire. Between them, Janine Jansen and Klaus Mäkelä make both scores sound fresh and alive. If the coupling appeals, don’t hesitate.
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