Brahms & Tchaikovsky: Violin Concertos Jascha Heifetz
Album Info
Album Veröffentlichung:
1957
HRA-Veröffentlichung:
27.03.2015
Label: Living Stereo
Genre: Classical
Subgenre: Concertos
Interpret: Jascha Heifetz, Chicago Symphony Orchestra & Fritz Reiner
Komponist: Johannes Brahms (1833-1897), Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893)
Das Album enthält Albumcover Booklet (PDF)
Entschuldigen Sie bitte!
Sehr geehrter HIGHRESAUDIO Besucher,
leider kann das Album zurzeit aufgrund von Länder- und Lizenzbeschränkungen nicht gekauft werden oder uns liegt der offizielle Veröffentlichungstermin für Ihr Land noch nicht vor. Wir aktualisieren unsere Veröffentlichungstermine ein- bis zweimal die Woche. Bitte schauen Sie ab und zu mal wieder rein.
Wir empfehlen Ihnen das Album auf Ihre Merkliste zu setzen.
Wir bedanken uns für Ihr Verständnis und Ihre Geduld.
Ihr, HIGHRESAUDIO
- Johannes Brahms (1833-1897): Violin Concerto in D, Op.77:
- 1 I. Allegro non troppo 18:55
- 2 II. Adagio 08:15
- 3 III. Allegro giocoso, ma non troppo vivace 07:19
- Piotr Il'yich Tchaikovsky (1840-1893): Violin Concerto in D, Op.35:
- 4 I. Allegro moderato 15:51
- 5 II. Canzonetta - Andante 05:31
- 6 III. Allegro vivacissimo 08:12
Info zu Brahms & Tchaikovsky: Violin Concertos
In the very early days of Fanfare, one critic dismissed Heifetz as a relic, soon to be ignored. Of course that’s turned out to be utterly false; the Heifetz blend of fire and ice has been tremendously influential since then, and the somewhat more romantic elements of his playing are coming back into vogue (not that, in his maturity, Heifetz was given to romantic extremes). Just think about Itzhak Perlman, whose entire career has been an effort to play like Heifetz (to the extent of appropriating the more oddball elements of his repertoire) while being loved like Kreisler. Heifetz retired 35 years ago, but his style is still very much with us. So are his recordings.
Little need be said about these justly famous performances from 1955 and 1957. The Brahms has great drive—Heifetz and Reiner get through it in 35 minutes—but this never comes at the expense of Heifetz’s singing tone. Heifetz provides his own cadenza, which is suitably virtuosic but not alien to the Brahms style. From soloist and orchestra alike, this is a note-perfect performance in a vivid recording, about which more later. The Tchaikovsky offers more of the same, although in this case the brevity (just under 30 minutes) has more to do with a small cut than with speed. The performance is extroverted yet elegant, truly debonair, benefiting from the soloist’s rich tone and sustained phrasing and Reiner’s incisive partnership.
This is one of the RCA Living Stereo 24bit Remaster, two-track in the case of the Brahms and three in the Tchaikovsky. In the Brahms, the orchestra is string-dominant, with winds and brass comparatively submerged most of the time, although Heifetz seems naturally positioned, closer to the orchestra than to the listener. The orchestra is better balanced in the Tchaikovsky. All in all, this is the best sonic presentation of these recordings yet.“ (James Reel, FANFARE)
Jascha Heifetz, violin
Chicago Symphony Orchestra
Fritz Reiner, conductor
Recorded in 1955 and 1957
Engineered by Lewis Layton
Produced by John Pfeiffer
Digitally remastered
Jascha Heifetz
Jascha Heifetz’s celebrated position as one of the greatest violinists of the twentieth century seems unassailable. Along with that of Fritz Kreisler, his name is associated with the evolution of the instrument’s technique and style in the first half of the century. Famed though Heifetz was for his extraordinary reliability and dazzling technique, his reputation nonetheless suffered slightly from intimations that he was a rather uninvolved player. Early in his career, he attended a gathering of several notable players in a private house in Berlin where he gave a performance of Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto with Kreisler at the piano; Kreisler commented to the other violinists present: ‘We may as well break our fiddles across our knees.’ Upon Heifetz’s London début in 1920 at the Queen’s Hall (having already sold 70,000 recordings in the UK) Bernard Shaw wrote to him, remarking: ‘Your recital has filled me and my wife with anxiety. If you provoke a jealous God by playing with such superhuman perfection, you will die young. I earnestly advise you to play something badly every night before going to bed, instead of saying your prayers. No mortal should presume to play so faultlessly.’
After initial training by his father, Heifetz attended the Vilna School of Music (under the direction of Elias Malkin, a former pupil of Leopold Auer). Later he went to Auer himself as the youngest member of his class in St Petersburg and remains one of Auer’s best-known pupils.
Heifetz’s own teaching engagements were both exacting and sporadic. Erick Friedman became his first regular pupil in 1957, cancelling a large number of concert engagements to take up intensive study with him which was given free of charge. Heifetz undoubtedly transformed Friedman’s playing and moulded him in his own image in terms of interpretation (he reputedly never imposed his own technical methods upon others), eventually paying him the greatest of compliments by inviting him to record Bach’s Double Violin Concerto (the only recording of the work made by Heifetz in which he is partnered by another violinist, Heifetz famously having otherwise recorded both parts himself ). From 1962–1972 he was Professor of Violin at the University of Southern California, Los Angeles.
Well known for being methodical in his preparation, Heifetz was noted for remaining consistent in his interpretation (rather in the manner of Rachmaninov as a pianist) as opposed to the older tendency towards spontaneity in each performance. In this sense his approach can be seen as the antithesis to Joachim’s (although via Auer he had a linked pedagogic lineage). He recorded remarkably widely, his first commercial discs being made in 1917. Early accounts of Heifetz’s playing whilst still in St Petersburg c.1910 reveal that he had already acquired something of his distinctively penetrating and devastatingly accurate tone. His recordings show amazing technique, as well as a highly influential style of playing: accurate to the letter of the musical score, sweetened by an intense and (some might argue) rather too regular vibrato. Claims for his modernity can however be overstated. His use of portamento throughout his career (uniquely linked to a fast accentual vibrato which came to be termed the ‘Heifetz slide’) sounds unfamiliar to today’s ears even though, as in the case of recordings by the actor John Gielgud, it is remarkable how little his tone varied throughout his life. Many readers will find it surprising that Heifetz played on gut strings throughout his career, the sound he desired being achieved with a silver-wound gut G, plain gut D and A, and a ‘Goldbrokat’ steel E.
Heifetz’s discography is so large it is hard to do it justice here in so small a space. This said, his playing has a notable consistency that makes generalisation rather less problematic. His distinctive style – the tautness of sound, with regular but generally well-controlled vibrato; his frequent employment of a distinctive portamento, quite different from those employed by violinists of the nineteenth century – enlivens many cantabile passages, and his peerless agility and intonation are remarkable even by today’s standards. Much of this sound, however, admits relatively little variation, so that in truth one is hearing Heifetz first and the composition as a mere vehicle. This works better in some contexts than others. The Bach and Mozart concertos selected here (including a famous 1946 recording of Bach’s Double Violin Concerto with Heifetz playing both parts) seem comparatively un-nuanced to our modern ears. His 1951 performance of Mozart’s Violin Concerto No. 5 is typical in its rather steely character, although the finale is taken in a poised and stately fashion. The 1939 and 1956 recordings of Beethoven’s Violin Concerto show a little change in style: the earlier recording is fastidious but tonally subtle; the later employs a harder, perhaps more brash sound. The extent to which this perception is the result of changing recording technology or Heifetz’s own advancing years is debatable (similar traits mar later Elman discs as well, but to a much greater extent). For me, though, Heifetz’s recorded performances of Franck’s Violin Sonata (1937) and Walton’s Violin Concerto (1941) are masterly. Here his sound, (which one might describe as that of an iron fist in a velvet glove) seems more appropriate; from the tough yet mysterious opening of the Walton to the laconic performance of Franck’s first movement it is counterpoised throughout by an electric, if tightly controlled, sense of excitement.
Booklet für Brahms & Tchaikovsky: Violin Concertos