Volume Two in Cembal d’Amour’s Heifetz series – the third will
be reviewed shortly – brings together two Russian masterpieces in live
performances from 1949. Both were or became staples of Heifetz’s repertoire.
In the Tchaikovsky he gradually came to eclipse the supposed hegemony
of Mischa Elman and in the Prokofiev, of which he gave the American premiere
with this orchestra and conductor twelve years before this performance,
he immediately established a commanding profile. His assurance was in
this respect as established in the Second Concerto as Szigeti’s had been
in the First – I don’t believe either violinist essayed "the other’s"
concerto.
Heifetz recorded the Tchaikovsky three times commercially;
all were made in London, the first with Barbirolli in 1935 and post-War
twice with Sargent, in 1947 and 1961. Here he is recorded in the Hollywood
Bowl with the Los Angeles Philharmonic conducted by William Steinberg,
who applies some nice touches of metrical freedom to the opening paragraphs
of the first movement – and cultivating some attractive wind playing
in the process. There is a sense of incipient tension to the playing
and despite the occasional acetate crunch the sound is acceptable. Things
are proceeding well, the cadenza and subsequent fearsome arpeggios surmounted
with practised ease, when Heifetz suffers a near catastrophic couple
of bars (around 14.33), which threaten to disable his performance –
very unusual to hear him come adrift like this. That he manages to retain
momentum and concentration in the conclusion of the movement and in
the slow movement, played with rapt simplicity, is testament to his
unflappable professionalism. The finale is good but can’t really stand
comparison with his first commercial set, fourteen years earlier, with
Barbirolli.
He gave that American premiere of the Prokofiev in
December 1937, recording it with the same forces, the Boston Symphony
and Koussevitsky three days later. Over twenty years later he was to
re-record it, again in Boston, this time with Charles Munch conducting,
and the performance probably better and more widely known of the two.
So it’s good to have this temporally equidistant recording – one that
sites Heifetz over a decade into his association with the work. Characteristically
he and Koussevitsky are tension filled and fast, with blended woodwind
especially notable. Admirers of Oistrakh’s way with the slow movement
will doubtless recoil from Heifetz’s vaunting and progressively animated
momentum here, over strong active pizzicato support and peppery wind
solos but most will be won over by Heifetz’s glorious string cantilena
at the beginning of the finale. Koussevitsky brings orchestral colour
to the fore here and together they drive to a dramatic conclusion.
Other companies are bringing out an arsenal of live
Heifetz material – Doremi in particular is issuing Bell Telephone Hour
and V-Disc material in profusion – but Cembal d’Amour has now staked
a strong claim to propagating Heifetz’s live legacy in a well-stocked
market. Whatever the particular merits of individual performances, you
can never have too much Heifetz on the shelves.
Jonathan Woolf