With these marvelous performances of the three Brahms violin sonatas, Nikolaj Znaider hits his artistic stride, abetted by Yefim Bronfman's impeccable piano partnership. The G major seemingly begins out of nowhere in darkness, then gradually takes on brighter colors as Znaider opens up his tone. The canonic interaction between violin and piano unfolds with gentle yet enlivening lack of effort, as does all of the composer's cross-rhythmic phrasing. Sample, if you can, Bronfman's solo introduction to the slow movement, and also notice how he admirably avoids other pianists' tendencies to push forward in climaxes by allowing the bass lines time to resonate and breathe in strict tempo. The A major sonata proves equally winning in a tender, lyrically inflected interpretation where even the softest, most delicate moments never go the least bit slack.

The musicians take the D minor's first movement at an animated Allegro that still manages to convey the music's brooding, somewhat mysterious underside. In the eloquent Adagio, Znaider's long-lined command suggests a bow with no end, while Znaider and Bronfman bring astute voice leading and relative sobriety to the third movement--a valid alternative to more impulsive and animated accounts (Mullova/Anderszewski, for example). Control and clarity define the pair's way with the finale, although the rollicking momentum they generate does not quite match the irresistible, kinetic abandon with which Suk/Katchen, Dumay/Pires, and Heifetz/Kapell have spoiled at least one reviewer named Distler! They conclude with an impassioned, intelligently parsed rendition of the "F.A.E Sonata" Scherzo. RCA's detailed, beautifully balanced engineering further enhances my highest recommendation.

--Jed Distler, ClassicsToday.com

Nikolaj Znaider's star shines brightly in the constellation of up-and-coming violinists of the next generation. Since winning the Queen Elizabeth Competition 1997, Znaider's career has steadily mounted with international performances and critically-acclaimed recordings of violin concertos of Tchaikovsky, Prokofiev, Glazunov and others. His new release on RCA, entitled Bravo!, sets a smaller stage with a collection of showpieces for solo violin, accompanied on most tracks by Israeli pianist Daniel Gortler.

Znaider's playing throughout is limber and precise, his immaculate technique inherited from Juilliard violin maven Dorothy De Lay, the teacher of Itzakh Perlman and Cho-Liang Ling, among others. Znaider fairly burns through the imposing demands of Eugène Ysaÿe's "Ballade" Sonata, but it's the refreshing lyrical parsimony in the slow stuff that demands notice. The two transcriptions of Chopin Nocturnes echo the kind of dry romanticism of the earliest violinists of the recorded era. In the famous Rachmaninoff Vocalise the effect of that reserve is magical; Znaider spins an endless thread of emotive melody that refuses to wear its heart on its sleeve. As with any good encore, you're grateful for the bonbon but left wanting another. What a boon to be able to simply repeat the track; an action we found ourselves repeating again and again with Znaider's Bravo!.

David Simmons, WQXR

We all know this: debut albums come and go; young wizard violinists who for the most part all sound alike come and go; and certainly marketing efforts come and go. Aside from tepid reviews for a Nielsen concerto performance at Carnegie Hall with the Leipzig Gewandhaus and Herbert Blomstedt in late 2001, there hasn't been much attention paid to 26-year-old violinist Nikolaj Znaider, but in the meantime RCA Red Seal signed him to an exclusive deal. (In the interest of full disclosure, the label asked me to write the short Znaider biography that appears on its website, but I have no attachment to this disc.)


Well, RCA made a very smart move: this guy is a powerhouse, and this is one of the most impressive discs I've heard in a long time. (It's actually not his first album; he made a recording of Nielsen and Bruch for EMI that--surprise, surprise--was issued and cut out in near record time, and a lot of people are mistaking this RCA disc as Znaider's debut.) Although he studied with the late Dorothy DeLay at Juilliard, he has honed a distinct sound and a clear point of view, unlike many of DeLay's other students who have an unfortunate tendency to machine-gun their way through difficult scores, firing off passages with rat-a-tat-tat accuracy and zero emotion. Znaider, on the other hand, manages to be both muscular and achingly sweet, an unbelievable combination that works especially well in the shifting moods of the Prokofiev.


There's a nasty edge to the outer movements, a knowing sourness to Znaider's playing that's reminiscent of Oistrakh. The excitement that builds in the final minute and a half of the concerto's last movement is palpable; the tension of the thudding percussion sets off Znaider's emotionally crazed (but technically impeccable) cross-registral runs. On the other hand, the inner Andante assai offers the violinist a chance to show off a lyrical romanticism that is echoed in the less interesting Glazunov concerto, a piece that compositionally is far more one-dimensional than the Prokofiev. The tossaway here is the Tchaikovsky Méditation, but again it's a chance for the young Danish violinist (of Polish-Israeli heritage) to show off his lush, rich sound and flexible phrasing that undoubtedly will remind many listeners of the golden age of violinists.


Mariss Jansons and the Bavarian Radio Symphony are astute accompanists, playing crisply and cleanly (if a bit leaden-footed in the first movement of the Prokofiev), but the truth is that in all respects this is Znaider's star turn. The sound is realistic and the balance between soloist and orchestra is excellent.
--Anastasia Tsioulcas, ClassicsToday.com

What poses the greater danger for a young violinist? Recording unusual repertoire that will appeal only to a few (unfamiliar showpieces by obscure composers, avant-garde repertoire, manuscript Baroque works, and on and on) or taking the plunge and recording the 198th and 206th (not actual numbers) versions of war-horses committed to disc in this decade alone that will, again, appeal to only a few? What?s a young man to do? Nicolaj Znaider has chosen to record Beethoven?s Violin Concerto and to couple it with Mendelssohn?s. The two concertos, he contends (in snippets from an interview that Eric Wen included in the booklet) call forth the essential qualities a violinist must possess. At one time, critics?reserving judgment to find out how they later met more substantive challenges?tended to give short shrift to violinists who initially recorded less than significant repertoire. Of course, the bold and the brave would then be mercilessly compared with Heifetz, Szigeti, Oistrakh, Milstein, Francescatti, and others. Znaider has strong partners in Zubin Mehta and the Israel Philharmonic, who play with abundant nuance in Mendelssohn?s Concerto and with powerful solidity to Beethoven?s. Occasionally, even seemingly ordinary phrases in Mendelssohn?s Concerto benefit from their attention, which consistently sets Znaider in a warmly nurturing context. And the monumental opening tutti (as Mehta and the Orchestra make it) throws a strong spotlight on the soloist in its equally prepossessing entry. The engineers? balance of soloist and orchestra (Znaider?s far enough forward to be clearly prominent yet not unnaturally dominant) provides an ideal. Znaider plays the 1704 ex-Liebig Stradivari, on loan to him, with sleek elegance, producing an even response in all registers. His sound?s never quite lush, but it?s commanding and appropriately subtle. When he?s unaccompanied in Beethoven?s first movement, his flexible tone production doesn?t require an underlying blanket to convey harmonic meaning. If he doesn?t sound sprightly in Mendelssohn?s Concerto, he never forces the piece into the Procrustean bed of late-Romantic expressivity, either. His playing?s never supercharged, like Maxim Vengerov?s (which, of course, risks mannerism), and it just as seldom flows so naturally as did Anne-Sophie Mutter?s early interpretations. But his technique shows itself to advantage in Kreisler?s first-movement cadenza, which he strops to a keen technical edge but also graces with penetrating musical insight. Has he solved the problem he explicitly set himself in Beethoven?s Concerto?making the omnipresent scales and arpeggios assigned to the violinist serve structural ends? In collaboration with Mehta and the orchestra, he?s made a good stab at it. These readings seem undergirded by a strong partnership and, in themselves, display all the virtues. What could be missing? My grandmother told my father about how easily recognizable Kreisler?s manner had been. Vengerov and Mutter, though not so individual as Heifetz or Oistrakh, can still be picked out after careful listening. Some violinists seek to solve musical problems, believing that in their solution they will find the Holy Grail. Breughel?s Landscape with the Fall of Icarus portrays the small figure of Icarus falling in a vast landscape, with all the countryside simply going about its own business. Of course, Icarus hadn?t solved his technical problems; but if he had, and had continued to soar, would the folk be portrayed watching him? Heifetz could bolt everybody to attention with a few notes, and I?m not sure that he did so by dint of having solved intellectual problems. What will my son tell his children about Nicolaj Znaider?


For anyone seeking this particular partnership of great violin concertos (and it?s not the most common coupling?the last Schwann Opus lists only several examples, some of these in sets) Znaider?s offers such a wealth of musical and violinistic virtues, that nobody could withhold a recommendation. But still, some unfulfilled desire to discern a personality, a human face with recognizable features, prompts me to issue that recommendation with less enthusiasm than the musical merits of the performances might otherwise deserve.


FANFARE: Robert Maxham