If your yen is for, say, Aaron Rosand or for another violinist 
                  who has given us such valuable repertoire in performances of 
                  vitality, personalised brilliance and nuance - let’s take 
                  Louis Kaufman - then you can go to a number of reissuing labels. 
                  But if you want recordings by Devy Erlih, a ‘cult’ 
                  fiddler less well known than they, then you must go to Forgotten 
                  Records. 
                    
                  I’ve reviewed his recordings on the label before and now 
                  it’s an opportunity to listen to his Lalo. In October 
                  1956 the London Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Désiré-Émile 
                  Inghelbrecht, assembled in the Théâtre des Champs 
                  Elysées, Paris, to record the Symphonie espagnole 
                  with the young Erlih. By now recordings of the four movement 
                  version, usually undertaken by Russian violinists and particularly 
                  by pupils of Leopold Auer, were becoming mercifully rare. Erlih, 
                  naturally, plays the five movement version. His tonal ethos 
                  is not really Gallic in the way that Thibaud’s or Henry 
                  Merckel’s was. There was a more cosmopolitan cut about 
                  him, and he didn’t sound much like Zino Francescatti either. 
                  His musical personality, though buoyant, wasn’t as projective 
                  as theirs; it was often exciting, frequently elastically phrased, 
                  but not always tonally seductive. 
                    
                  He plays with lightness and wristy elegance in the Scherzando. 
                  Inghelbrecht sets quite a dour tempo for the ensuing Intermezzo 
                  (the movement the Russians often cut) though this does allow 
                  Erlih to spin a provocative dance in the contrasting central 
                  section. The Andante lacks the sheer warmth that Coppola 
                  provided for Merckel in their pre-war 78 set, but its austerity 
                  is not unattractive in its own way. Quick slides animate the 
                  Rondo finale, which, again, is not over-pressed tempo-wise. 
                  In terms of the recording, the LPO play decently though the 
                  winds are recessed in the balance. 
                    
                  As a makeweight we get conductor and orchestra alone in the 
                  charmingly coloured snapshot that is Rapsodie norvégienne. 
                  
                    
                  This excellently transferred disc faithfully reproduces Ducretet-Thomson 
                  320-C124, which means that the playing time is short. But if 
                  Erlih is your priority, which it assuredly has to be here, then 
                  you will find here more evidence of his always interesting playing. 
                  
                    
                  Jonathan Woolf