Casual interest in
Hubay will lead one to Hejre Kati and
to other of his idiomatic morceaux pieces
for the violin but will certainly not
prepare one for the full breadth of
his compositions. That other violinistic
recital standby of old, ‘The Violin-Maker
from Cremona’, his Op.40 is actually
extracted from Hubay’s opera of the
same name. This is only one of his eight
operas, four symphonies and four violin
concertos. This in addition to various
orchestral pieces, salon works and the
mass of pedagogic material that Hubay
produced throughout his long career
and the vast, fathomless list of his
violin students; from Szigeti, Vecsey,
d’Aranyi and Eddy Brown to Tibor Serly,
Stefi Geyer and Eugene Ormandy (then
in his original guise as Jenö Blaü,
aspirant fiddle soloist).
The last two Violin
Concertos are played here by Hagai Shaham
who is a pupil of Ilona Fehér,
herself a Hubay student - which will
add paprika to the idea of violinistic
genealogies. Both concertos date from
1906/07. The Third, dedicated to his
pupil Vecsey (who was also the dedicatee
of the Sibelius Concerto) is a most
attractive work cast in four movements.
It opens with some virtuosic passagework,
vigorous and demanding, but it’s in
the more reflective, intimate moments
that Hubay most impresses, not least
when soloist Shaham intensifies his
vibrato usage correspondingly. Little
flecks of waterfall delicacy animate
the writing. The bristly Scherzo second
movement reminds me of Saint-Saëns’
concerted works for violin; it has the
panache and authority, and the technical
demands, but rather lacks the melodic
interest of the French works. One notable
feature of Shaham’s playing is that
any vestige of the old besetting sin
of the Hubay school, the nagging, slow
vibrato certainly hasn’t survived –
he plays with clarity and at all times
demonstrates flexible vibrato usage.
In the third movement Adagio – the longest
of the four – Shaham brings chocolaty
lower string expressivity to his expert
cantilever, buttressing the theatrical
and dramatic opening paragraphs with
great warmth and feeling. And in the
flourish of the finale, with a bristly
fugato that reminds one of Elgar’s Introduction
and Allegro, is capped by a virtuosically
powerful cadenza – taxing if a bit bland.
The Fourth Concerto
owes a debt to the idea, at least, of
baroque form but thematically this is
a rich late Romantic work that reminds
one of Bruch. The opening Preludio is
intense, in non-sonata form, and throughout
there are little piquancies that will
please, such as the off-the-beat pizzicati
in the second movement or the baroque-folk
sounding drone in the same Corrente
e Musette. Again Hubay spins an effortlessly
attractive Adagio (Larghetto) though
it’s not necessarily superior to the
slightly earlier concerto. The finale
though is full of syncopation and panache
with a delicious second subject and
plenty of motoric fireworks for the
nimble-fingered soloist. To complete
the disc we have the Op.72 Variations
made up of an Introduction and Theme,
eleven brief (sometimes very brief)
Variations, a big cadenza, and the reprise
of the Theme, now marked grave.
Clearly owing a big debt to the Paganini
Caprices we encounter plenty of explosive
technique, pizzicati, tremolandi and
the like – though given the rather skeletal
orchestral accompaniment I wonder if
it wouldn’t make more sense recast as
a solo work.
The recording is spacious,
warm and entirely sympathetic and Brabbins
and the BBC Scottish prove themselves
to be as adroit in their accompaniment
as they have elsewhere in these Hyperion
series of disinterment. As I said, Shaham
plays with fire and sensitivity. There
is a Hungaroton coupling of the concertos
available with Vilmos Szabadi and the
North Hungarian Symphony Orchestra under
László Kovács;
I’ve not heard it but it would have
to go some to better this auspicious
release.
Jonathan Woolf
Hagai Shaham (violin) 