February 13, 2003
In the Care of the Gods
I placed my latest order for classical music CDs the other day. I use Crotchet rather than MDT or Amazon, as they strike what is, for me, a good balance between browsability, value and depth of stock. I ordered: (i) Marc-André Hamelin’s recording of the complete Scriabin sonatas, as I’d been intrigued on one hand by a rendition of one of them, the 7th, by Roland Pöntinen on a CD compilation of Russian virtuoso piano music I’d picked up second-hand, and on the other by a delightful account of a set of Scriabin’s early (and distinctly Chopinesque) Op. 8 Études by Nikita Magaloff, on the Italian budget label Ermitage; (ii) a set of Beethoven’s late quartets having been struck by an extract from Op. 130 on a Gramophone cover disc recently; (iii) a ‘best-of’ compilation of the music of Gavin Bryars, based more, to be honest, on what I have read than on what I have heard; and (iv) a disc featuring compositions for cello and orchestra by Paul Hindemith, my first foray beyond this composer’s chamber and instrumental works.
It’s not the ideal way to explore what remains (for me) the largely undiscovered continent of classical music, as I’ve no trustworthy map, and proceed with little innate sense of direction: I have oftentimes been necessarily disappointed with music that looked great on paper, but that fell leadenly flat on my ears when I actually listened to it. For now though, I can afford a measure of recklessness, and mean to continue regardless, heartened that I've bought as many gems as I have worthless baubles.
A much cheaper means of musical exploration has been amongst the LPs, often sold at a pittance, which crowd the bins in the local junkshops. I bought four discs in the course of a couple of junktrawls on Sunday and Monday. Out of these, alas, only one stood out as a keeper on first listening: a 10-inch 33 of Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto with David Oistrakh as the soloist. I think I’d heard the piece before, and had thought little of it... but sometimes it takes a particular performer to animate a work, and make it dance and sing where others simply cannot - and, even through the haze of hiss & crackle from a record a long, long way past mint condition, I listened, transfixed by the intense brilliance of Oistrakh’s playing.
Music is in the care of the gods...