It’s been a good time for Heifetz admirers recently.
Even leaving to one side the 65 CD set of the Heifetz Edition issued
in the early nineteen nineties we have had the 1934 previously rejected
and unreleased Sibelius Concerto with Stokowski and the Philadelphia.
APR has recently issued a previously unissued 1949 Kreutzer Sonata with
Moiseiwitsch, which predates their commercial recording by two years
and only existed in the form of test pressings retained by the pianist.
And now, maybe topping even these two, comes a collection of recordings
spanning the acoustic and electric eras, much of which is new to the
Heifetz discography – two major Romantic Sonatas, five acoustic titles
and an example of Heifetz the pianist.
He had recorded the second movement of the Grieg Sonata
in 1928 but this newly issued 1936 performance was the only occasion
on which he attempted it in its entirety. The Brahms First, Op 78 is
entirely new – and both these sonatas come from a period of extensive
record making following his London concerto recordings. Both the Second
Sonatas of Brahms and Grieg were recorded and issued amid much else
– Mozart, Beethoven, Fauré – and the Grieg Third was originally
intended to supplant the Kreisler-Rachmaninov recording of 1928. These
unissued discs offer a rich array of Heifetzian glory and are of significant
interest both musically and historically. The disc begins with the Grieg,
recorded ten days before the Brahms, in February 1936 at the RCA Studios
in New York. We can immediately hear two things – the intensely coiled
Heifetz vibrato and the distant balancing of Emanuel Bay. Bay is a supportive
but rather bland partner – his playing at 1’20 at the start of the movement,
where his phrasing is frankly dull, is symptomatic of much else. Heifetz
meanwhile presses forward with galvanic impetus replete with cliff face
diminuendos and considerable fire. There is some rough playing from
him at 4’40 but from here onward his fervid vibrato contrasts markedly
with Bay’s penny plain phraseology – indeed Heifetz’s playing here is
not as ideally romanticised as some might like. In the second movement
we hear a distinctive Heifetz slide in the statement of the theme and
much more of the fervent intensity of which he was a master – but the
pizzicatos are very, very loud indeed. In the finale he launches an
invincible attack at 1’25, bold, uncompromising, that contrasts almost
immediately with his elfin narrowing of tone. His control of contrast
is excellent and though, inevitably, he’s not technically perfect these
are passing details – though the mistake at 2’41 is a notable one and
a few whistles obtrude. There remains, to my ears, however an air of
calculation about the movement that I find oppressive. At 5’50 he sounds
just rather too prepared and mannered and his abrupt diminuendo at 6’17
just too calculated for comfort. What strikes one about the recording
as a whole are his unique tonal qualities, the tremendous weight of
attack, and the razor sharp reflexes. The Brahms Sonata begins with
determination – fluent, with no lingering. Bay is again under-inflected
and backward in the balance. His playing from 3’10 sounds petty and
subservient and is anyway covered by Heifetz’s inflated pizzicatos.
Heifetz is on fruity form by 7’09 with some rich slides, turning and
coiling the line with a battery of inflective devices, left and right
hand. Bay is again heavy-handed in his introduction to the second movement
but Heifetz is full of tonal depth and variety, sometimes indeed just
a little over full. However this is, on its own terms, deeply impressive
music making and if the finale, which has one or two rather smeary slides,
isn’t perfect it is nevertheless a significant performance. Of the remainder
we are fortunate indeed to have the luxury at this late date of listening
to unpublished Heifetz acoustics. The Wieniawski in the Kreisler arrangement
is dashed off with barely a quiver of concern; the Auer arrangement
of Lensky’s Aria is full of the most complex tonal colouration with
shading and bowing of exceptional sophistication; his lower strings
here do not rival Elman’s – they are instead iron ore to Elman’s lava
flow and make a fascinating contrast. As with other discs here I’m not
sure why this was never approved for release. A moment of poor intonation
temporarily interrupts Rameau’s Tambourin but otherwise all is silvery
and robust. The Bach is affectionately done and the Sarasate, not new
to the discography though this recording is, simply stunning. As a pendant
we have an example of Heifetz the pianist. Like his older colleague
Fritz Kreisler, Heifetz was a decent pianist and so with fellow Russian
Isidor Achron they play the popular song Valencia with enviable rapport.
Documentation is excellent – with a booklet containing
just the right amount of information, presented in a book format, and
housed in a handy pocket. Recording quality is equally superb. This
is a disc of drama, excitement and real historical and musical value.
Jonathan Woolf