The three concertos have an exuberance in common, stemming quite as much from deep technical understanding of the instrument's problems as from a more general devotion to its beauties. The father's work is in a free, extended rondo form, with a strong march theme in C minor recurring at the pivotal points. Not a specially inspired theme but a memorable one. I wondered for a moment what it reminded me of, only to realize when it appeared momentarily in the major that its bluff dotted rhythms are like Rossini's exaggerated military march in 11 Barbiere di Siviglia when Almaviva, in his disguise as an officer, pretends to be drunk.
Not that Rossini is the real influence here; rather Franz Strauss's hero, Brahms, and the central slow section in a flowing compound time—virtually a movement on its own with a full close at the end--has a Brahmsian lusciousness of melody writing, and all through it is striking how quickly the composer moves away from pyrotechnics to warm, lyrical writing. There are pyrotechnics of course, particularly in the breathtaking, florid writing which ends each outer section, but plainly for Franz Strauss display was not the main point.
The two Richard Strauss concertos were written some 60 years apart (1882-3 against 1942) and have some obvious points in common. They are both in the key of E flat, they both use an identical, modest-sized orchestra, in each there is a linking of movements, and each ends with a brilliant rondo. They both reveal Strauss at his mellowest and most euphonious, the early work because he had yet to learn 'cacophonous' ways, the later work because he had forsaken them in favour of a milder style. Though they inevitably reflect different periods, and the later work has finesse in place of youthful eagerness, they are very much inspirations of the same mind.
In the First Concerto there are some of the same contrasts, for if Brain's tone in dramatic bravura passages had a sharpness of impact that is unique, it is Tuckwell, who with a slightly less dramatic range of tone-colour, is generally the more expressive in his phrasing in this work. In the final rondo his shading of individual phrases is more thoughtfully done, and the legato playing is more intensely beautiful. In the first movement too, Tuckwell's pp playing is breathtaking in the second episode.
I mention these contrasts to underline Tuckwell's achievement. In practical terms the rivalry will probably not be direct. Some will naturally stay faithful to the unique Brain artistry, but whatever the contrasts of interpretation, there is no denying the powerful benefits of outstanding modern stereo and of course the unexpected bonne-bouche of Father Strauss's concerto. Splendid orchestral playing from Tuckwell's LSO colleagues. E.G.