This miscellaneous Heifetz collection brings together 
          live performances from the 1940s and 1950s in which he is partnered 
          either by the dutiful Emanuel Bay or by Donald Voorhees and the Bell 
          Telephone Hour Orchestra. It also inaugurates the first volume in an 
          uneven but very worthwhile Heifetz series from the enterprising Mordecai 
          Shehori and his Cembal d’Amour label. Uneven because there are some 
          aural problems here as well as arrangement limitations. These discs 
          are necessary listening experiences, Heifetz, being Heifetz, and offer 
          some intriguing sidelights on repertoire, commercialism, imperturbable 
          virtuosity and repetitious encore literature. All of which might be 
          surmised when one considers that except for the Khachaturian, Hubay, 
          Rachmaninov and Achron all items are accompanied by orchestral arrangements 
          of varying shades of bloatedness. This is assuredly not the fault of 
          either Voorhees, a solid musician, or of Heifetz himself but is reflective 
          of the material on the Bell Telephone Hour, much of which has thankfully 
          survived and for which we have cause to be grateful. There are numerous 
          high spots of course. He is razor sharp intonationally in Sarasate where 
          for once the orchestra is rather less glutinous than usual; there is 
          all Heifetz’s accustomed intensity of expression, the trademark "Heifetz 
          slides" and some swashbuckling virtuosity. He is rather backward 
          in the balance in Vitali’s Chaconne in stark contradistinction to his 
          slightly later commercial disc, one of the most close-up, glamorous 
          and stunning violin records ever made. Here, back in 1948, he is technically 
          surprisingly suspect, employs a couple of gulped downward portamenti, 
          and lacks the commanding eloquence of the 1950 organ accompanied disc. 
          It can’t have helped that he was pursued by a serio-comic band arrangement 
          that fails to convey stark intensity, substituting instead a remarkable 
          talent for dissipating momentum just as it’s needed. When the harp appeared 
          I’m afraid I left and so should Heifetz. 
        
 
        
He recorded the Sinding with the Los Angeles Philharmonic 
          Orchestra and the cellist turned conductor Alfred Wallenstein in 1953 
          but it’s still good to hear his ravishing way with it. What operatic 
          intensity he brings to the Adagio, with a battery of slides, shadings 
          and speeds of vibrato usage employed. Ignore the heavy accompaniment 
          and feast your ears on Heifetz here and in the classically shaped finale 
          where he plays with bold, slashing adventure. Maybe the Wieniawski Capriccio-Valse 
          isn’t immaculate but it’s still chock-full of charm and panache and 
          he spices the Khachaturian with plenty of pepper. There’s lots of winning 
          rubato in the Elgar showpiece (he’d already recorded it twice by the 
          1940s) and succulent tone but once more a fairly horrific orchestration 
          almost saps it of conviction, as is the case with the Paganini where 
          there is a problem at the end with a sudden tiny one-channel dropout. 
          I liked the tempo for Hubay’s Zephyr, a real Heifetz stunner if rather 
          over emoted here but the Massenet, which I’m not sure he ever set down 
          commercially, receives a cruelly subterranean recording, a real pity. 
          In the Wieniawski Scherzo-Tarantelle and the abridged Second Concerto 
          he is predictably dashing, full of tonal allure and variety. 
        
 
        
It’s not quite clear from the documentation as to the 
          source material used on this disc. Some has appeared on other labels 
          over the years – LPs on the Masters of the Bow and the obscure Penzance 
          labels for instance – but it’s fascinating to have it collated here 
          and if the arrangements are frequently lacklustre and worse, the original 
          copies worn and occasionally recessed, Heifetz is always the scintillating 
          centre of attention. So an uneven but still eventful start to the Heifetz 
          recordings on Cembal d’Amour. 
        
 
        
Jonathan Woolf