No sooner has Volume
4 of this series hit the shops and Internet
warehouses than Volume 5 is out. The
recipe is much as before – though this
time less complete works and rather
more in the shape of extracts. So we
get the central movements only of two
works closely associated with Heifetz:
the concertos of Castelnuovo-Tedesco
(No. 2) and Gruenberg. But we get a
sumptuous array of encore material in
more of less decent sound, considering
the circumstances (non-commercial) of
preservation.
After Lionel Barrymore’s
fruitily voiced introduction we open
with some Brahms. Though the documentation
doesn’t disclose the exact provenance
of any of these recordings this Hungarian
Dance is derived from a Concert Hall
broadcast for Armed Forces Radio made
in Los Angeles in January 1945 and was
once available on a Rococo LP. Those
who swear by the Steinberg-led Introduction
and Rondo Capriccioso probably haven’t
heard the 1935 Barbirolli disc. Even
so this 1945 performance is full of
Heifetz’s enormous and sumptuous flair,
a sense of luscious intimacy and panache
– with Heifetz slides (unmistakeable)
and finger position changes of intensity
and heat. Heifetz recorded, one way
or another, quite a bit of Castelnuovo-Tedesco,
including his major commitment, the
Second Concerto, with Wallenstein in
1954 (a recording of the First under
Toscanini and the NBC Orchestra hasn’t,
to my knowledge, yet surfaced. Let’s
hope.) This live broadcast of the second
movement is full of great delicacy and
intimately soaring lyricism as well
as magnetic sweep. The aural imperfections
of occluded orchestral contributions
– and they are in any case a little
untidy – are no hindrance at all.
Beau Soir comes with
his characteristic hooded and muted
intensity and Clair de Lune though familiar
from the Bay disc of 1945, represents
a slightly later take on it. The well-chosen
dance selection proves enticing as well,
though all will be familiar from commercial
discs. Good to hear Gruenberg’s concerto
movement (only the second movement is
here) as it’s never struck me as bad
as people say it is – certainly not
in a performance as evocative as this
one. The Lalo is grave and dramatic
and not at all Francophile in orientation
but lovers of Americana will applaud
the sliver of Burleigh and C. C. White’s
Plenty o’ Nuttin impression in
his Levee Dance with its Joshua
fit quotation. To end we have a
Heifetz blockbuster, Sarasate’s Romanza
Andaluza. Having listened to eighteen
different recordings of it one evening
recently – for reasons too dull for
me to go into – ranging from Armida
Senatra in about 1910 to Michael Rabin
in about 1950 I can say with some authority
that Heifetz has never been matched
here.
Jonathan Woolf
Volume
4
Jascha Heifetz (violin)