In a disc billed on its cover as centring
on an artist, rather than on any individual work, it is odd
to find less booklet space given over to biography than
to the discussion of one particular piece of music. But
writer Peter Avis evidently feels strongly that the Korngold
violin concerto needs all the support it can get. After
all, in spite of a hugely successful premiere (“… triumphantly
received … A success like the best times in Vienna … the
most enthusiastic ovation in the history of the hall” according
to the composer), as well as promotion by some world-class
soloists, it has resolutely failed to establish a place
in the general repertoire other than as something of
a curiosity. The ingrained artistic elitism of post-war
metropolitan critics – accused by Korngold of displaying “snobbish,
atonal anger” - originally had a great deal to do with
that.
All three movements contain material taken from
Korngold-scored movies and that was enough for many disdainful
highbrow commentators to dismiss the work out of hand
as a “Hollywood concerto” (the words of Olin Downes in
the
New York Times). But those very same film
scores, revalued since the 1970s’ upsurge in interest
in the composer, are widely perceived nowadays as uniquely
rich and sophisticated examples of their type. As a
result, few commentators any longer consider that Korngold
compromised or debased such “serious” compositions as
his symphony or his violin concerto by incorporating
into them material that had been originally written for
the screen.
Korngold himself claimed that, in this concerto,
he was planting his own standard firmly on the side of “expression
and feeling … long melodic themes … music conceived in
the heart and not constructed on paper … [and]
wohllautend (well-sounding)”. He
had, moreover, a particular type of soloist in mind: “In
spite of its demand for virtuosity in the finale, the
work with its many melodic and lyric episodes was contemplated
rather for a Caruso of the violin than for a Paganini. It
is needless to say how delighted I am to have my concerto
performed by Caruso and Paganini in one person: Jascha
Heifetz.” [All original quotations are taken from Brendan
G. Carroll’s authoritative study
The Last Prodigy:
a biography of Erich Wolfgang Korngold (Portland,
Oregon, 1997) pp. 328-332].
As Heifetz appreciated to the full, Korngold’s
concerto is a beguiling, deeply romantic and richly-themed
work that repays in spades any soloist’s degree of emotional
investment. It is hard to see how his completely secure
and utterly committed 1951 recorded performance could
be bettered – which is perhaps another reason why very
few have ever tried.
The 1951 performance of Lalo’s
Symphonie espagnole does
not reach quite such exalted levels. That, however,
has nothing to do with Heifetz:
he fulfils the
composer’s demands for glittering pastiche and consummate
virtuosity to the letter. The culprits are, rather,
the orchestra and conductor who offer unidiomatic and
generally lifeless support. One might be inclined to
forgive them in a live performance when all ears would
be on the soloist – but, for repeated listening, this
becomes a rather dull and dreary experience.
While quite appropriately included on this disc,
the assorted violin/piano pieces that complete it show
Heifetz in a very different context. As a good friend
of Gershwin’s (there was actually a chance of them becoming
related when the composer dated the violinist’s sister
Pauline), Heifetz exhibits complete empathy with his
musical idiom. The three preludes – concise yet compelling
pieces - go particularly well. Juxtaposed like this,
they in fact make an attractive mini-suite for violin
and piano. Heifetz was himself responsible for transcribing
the
Porgy and Bess material and, once again, the
affection for Gershwin’s melodies and style is quite
evident.
Summertime is a particular success but
the “spikier”, more astringent pieces come off superbly
well too.
The three closing pieces are also well chosen
to justify the disc’s “violin virtuoso” title, with Arthur
Benjamin’s
Jamaican Rumba making a fitting final
number. Maybe Heifetz – the great poker face – still
maintained his usual stern mien during the recording
session, but I doubt whether you will do the same as
you listen to the entrancing results.
Rob Maynard
Reviews
of other Korngold Violin Concerto recordings
Jascha
Heifetz (violin) 
